


Of Tolerance and Acceptance

by GeorginoschkaVincen



Category: Marvel (Movies), X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Astral Plane, Dark, Drama, Dystopia, Kind of Alternate Universe, M/M, Racism, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con References, Telepathy, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-20
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 23:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 69,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorginoschkaVincen/pseuds/GeorginoschkaVincen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fight on Cuba; Shaw is dead and everything seems fine, besides the fact that the humans know about mutants. An act of violence causes Erik to lose the vision of peace that Charles has tried to build up.  What will Magneto do, after they've hurt the man he loves?<br/>(based on First Class, kind of AU?(Charles isn't paralyzed))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Soo, this is my second ErikxCharles story and it is based on First Class.  
> There might be some grammar mistakes, please excuse me, I am German xD
> 
> I will try to update as soon as possible, but I have school and I've also started a sequel to another First Class story, so it might take some time (though I try to update in one to two week(s) )

_It probably is my fault. All of this._

_We should not have taken them to the hospital, it has been such a stupid, reckless idea of Moira, but what should we have done otherwise? I should have known that the humans would react with hate and disgust, they always do when they see or hear of something that they do not understand ; if it is something different, new._

_I should have known better. But, how could I have known what they would do? They are so naive and stupid, god, how I hate them!_

_But, what should I, we, have done otherwise? It had been the only option to help the injured ones.._

_It was my fault that Charles has been violated by them._

_Those damn, idiotic humans.._

_They want to spread pain?_

_Then they shall feel pain!_

**Prologue**

"God damn, just hurry!" his voice was a mixture of anger and worry, his hands clutching Charles' body firmly, the head of the unconscious telepath lolled back and forth with every step that Erik took. "Get us some damn doctors over here! These are injured people!" His screaming seemed to scare the nurse behind the counter, who gawked at him as if he was a madman. Then, slowly, her gaze turned to the others behind him. Her eyes went even wider, if that was possible, and she stumbled several steps backwards. "Ah..They..They are blue!" She pointed towards Raven, who was held upright by Hank.

Erik groaned in annoyance, not bothering to look at the two blue mutants behind him "Yes, they are blue; great that you've noticed this important fact!" his voice was an angry hiss, and the nurse flinched. She really was scared of the group of weird people in weird suits. Erik was not sure if she noticed all the blood, or the half unconscious, red-haired Sean, or Alex, who held Sean upright together with Moira.

The flight back in the helicopter had already been a pain in the ass, and too much time had passed. The teenager were clearly drained, but what worried Erik the most was Charles' condition. He had collapsed on the beach after he had helped Erik to kill Shaw by holding him in place, and he was unconscious since then. At least the horrible nosebleeding had stopped.

"But..what..what are they? And you? Why are you wearing those suits and-"

"Verdammt noch mal! Sei still!" Erik could no longer hide his anger. Not that he had hidden it before, but now he was clearly at the end of his patience. "Do you see the blood? And do you see the pain in their face? Yes? Then why the hell are you just staring! We -need- help!"

"Erik.." Moira let go of Sean, who's weight was now entirely supported by Alex, but the blonde teen didn't seem to mind the extra weight that he had to carry alone now. "Please, calm down. I know this is urgent but you have to understand that-"

"I have to understand _what_?!" he snapped, his eyes narrowed to slits. "That they fear us? That they don't see us as humans and neither want to treat us as such?" Moira was as stupid and naive as the others of her kind. He didn't like her, he never did, and at the moment he was at the verge of gripping her throat to stop her from talking further because he couldn't stand her annoying voice anymore. The only thing that kept him from doing so was Charles, who was in his arms.

"Erik!" Moira reached for his arm, but he dodged it. She sighed "They have never seen something like this before, of course they are scared and don't know what to do!I was scared as well as I saw Emma and the others for the first time!" She turned to the nurse. The poor women was as white as the wall behind her. "Please excuse my friend, we have had a rough time and those people here really need help."

The women nodded slowly "I can..see that. But, what exactly are" she paused, her gaze wandering over the small group " ..you?" Erik glared at Moira, but the words were out of her mouth before he could stop her "They are Mutants. " she said hastily "But please don't ask any further questions. I am a CIA agent and those people are with me. You don't have to fear anything, they are on our side."

Erik pressed his lips together and he was sure he heard his teeth crack as he clenched them. Moira's intention had been to get the nurse to call a doctor, but the blonde women was as shocked as before.

"Mutants?" the nurse asked perplex. Erik rolled his eyes and noticed several more nurses and people who were looking curiously towards their derection. Damn, they would never leave the entrance hall if they continued like this! Couldn't they see that this was urgent?

That was why he began to walk down the left corridor. If they wouldn't get them a doctor, he would search for one!

"Hey, sir, hey!" the nurse shouted, but her voice wasn't as firm as she probably wanted it to be. "You have to registrate!"

Erik simply ignored her.

It took them almost one hour to find two doctors and three nurses who agreed to help them. Fortunately nobody was seriously injured. Sean had a twisted arm, Raven had a sprained foot and Hank and Alex were nearly unharmed, except for some scratches. Erik himself had some scratches as well, only his right hand looked a bit worse, but else he was fine. And, to his relief, so was Charles; the telepath had no inner injuries and the doctors told Erik and Moira that he should wake up soon. Erik was really glad to hear that, in fact, everything would have been perfect now. Shaw was dead, finally, and Erik was more than satisfied. Charles would be alright as well, and the kids were okay too. If only there were no humans..

They knew now. They knew about mutants now, and Erik was sure this would not go well. The humans were stupid, selfish, they would fear them. He was sure they would try to lock them away, to get rid of them somehow, because that was what humans always did when they couldn't manage something - they tried to get rid of it. They never tried to understand. They were good in judging over everything but they never really tried to understand. They did what they thought was good for the public, but they never cared about the pain that they were causing the innocents.

 _Registration, identification, discrimination, camps, hate_ , ... It would start like this, again, and Erik couldn't help himself but fear what would come next.

"What are you thinking about?" He had been looking out of the window, lost in his thoughts, but Charles' soft voice brought him back to the room. It had been two days since they had brought him here, and this was the first time that he was fully awake. He probably did already know everything; he was a telepath, what else was to be expected? Though, Erik wasn't sure since Charles had been unconscious for two days and hadn't touched a single mind.

He should probably go easy on Charles, but the metal-bender would not lie; he was someone who rather told the downright truth than a good lie. "About our future, and about the humans." he answered calmly.

Charles sighed as he sat up ,eyeing Erik closely. He still looked exhausted, but clearly better than at his first day here. "You know, Erik, I think this might be a step into an important stage of our life. For all of us." he gave Erik an encouraging smile, but Erik could not return it because he was too worried. This would not end good, he was sure.. "Think about all the opportunities we have." Charles continued "Working together with the humans, no more hiding .. " he trailed off. He wasn't worried, he never was, not about the humans. He considered them as too trustworthy, as if they were their friends...

Yes, that was what Charles wanted; he wanted to fit into the society, he wanted to be one of them, one of those men who was admired by everyone. Some would call it arrogance, Erik called it naivety.

Charles didn't want to be admired because he wanted to be famous, no, it was more the fact that he believed he could change something if the people would know him, that they would listen to him, that they would look up at him. He wanted to make the world into a better place, a place where humans and mutants could live together happily forever.

He was yearning for peace.

But, you could never trust humans.

Charles was too naive, he had always been too naive, and he would stay too naive.

Maybe he was just an optimist.

Charles felt the change of Erik's emotions, and so he laid a hand on his, trying to calm him. "You will see, this will be different. This time no one will die. Of course they will mistrust us at the beginning, but they will see that we are not as different than they might believe. " he leaned forward, his unnaturally blue eyes looking right into his soul and Erik could not help but trying to believe him. And yes, he did try, he really really did, because he wished that Charles was right, but deep down in his heart he already knew that this would end in a disaster.

"I hope you are right.." he mumbled because he hadn't had the strengh to argue about this topic, and Charles laughed softly as he closed his eyes and leaned back again. Erik could say so much more about this topic, but he knew they would end in arguing about humanity and peace. Their opinions about this topic were too different and they would probably never agree with another. Both were not strong enough to have a fight now. Not after what just had happened. That was why he kept quiet, and he was sure that Charles was thankfully for that.

The telepath was still a bit worn out. Erik had not asked him what had happend as the coin went through Shaw's head, and Charles hadn't had said a word either. It must have been painful, and Erik was sorry for causing his friend so much pain. He hadn't meant to hurt him, he never would hurt him on purpose, but it had been necessary to achive his goal. Charles knew this, and that was why he said nothing. He knew that it hadn't been Erik's intention to hurt him; he had been to lost in his rage to notice what he was actually doing..

"You should take a nap, you are still tried..." Charles nodded slowly, but he grabbed Erik's hand tighter as Erik tried to stand up. "You.." he cleared his throat "You won't go, won't you?..I mean..You will stay with us, right?" His eyes were stern and big like those of a frightened child. He feared that he would leave, now, after everything was over and Erik had achived his goal.

Erik stared at him, and suddenly he began to laugh "No, Charles." he said, and his voice was surprisingly soft "I won't leave your side. I never would." Charles' grip on his hand loosened and the tension in his limbs vanished. "Okay.." he breathed, closing his eyes again, a smile on his lips. "I am glad you stay with us, Erik..I wouldn't want to miss your presence at my side."

Erik knew why, and Charles knew that Erik knew.

They both were more than friends.

That was the most important reason why Erik would never leave Charles' side; because he loved him. Neither of them had ever said the word, but they knew. They had shared more than one secret kiss, but still they called each other friends. Maybe because of the others, maybe because they weren't sure how to handle their relationship.

Erik watched the telepath as he drifted off into sleep.

It was over now. Shaw was dead, and now, after two days, Erik had finally realized that it was over. He took a deep breath and it was the first time after a long periode of his life that he felt free. Free of his burden and his urge to kill the man who killed his mother.

But that was just one single problem that he had solved.

For the moment he was just glad, relieved, not thinking about any humans or problems of the world.

Their happiness wouldn't last long.

He didn't know it yet, and neither did Charles.


	2. Hate And Violence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used some phrases from the x-Men comic 'God loves, man kills' for what Charles, Creed and Stryker say at some points. You should read that comic, it is really good , the base for X-movie 2 ,and important for the mutant-human conflict.  
> See the notes at the end for the phrases I've used.
> 
> Warning: violence at the end of the chapter! Mentioning of rape (not graphic, though!)

_Humans are weak._

 _They are right to fear us._

 _I will have no mercy with them, because they will always make the same mistakes._

 _They have chosen their path on their own.  
_   
**Chapter 1**

_April 1963_

It was several month after the fight on Cuba.

There was no worry about war anymore, at least not officially. Much more present was the new problem; mutants. Every day they heared the politics discussing their point of view about this topic, trying to find a solution for their new problem. Enemies or friends? A new war, or none?

The public had been more than shocked, but wasn't that understandable? What else would you expect?

What would you do if your goverment tells you that there is something supernatural among you? How would you react, what would you think, whom would you believe and whom trust? It was a chaos out there, and the public was so easily to manipulate..

The hate, the disgust and the fear were stronger than the curiosity. There was something inhuman? Surely it was bad and evil. Something or someone with powers? Surely they would use them against the humans. A new race above the humans? Surely it meant that the humans would become extinct. They were too navie to take a closer look under the surface.

Not everything inhuman was evil, not everyone with powers was power-hungry or evil as Shaw had been. The Cuba missile crisis was now the fault of all mutants, just because Shaw had been one. The public should have never known of the mutants. There were not ready yet, and they would probably never be. They didn't even try to understand..

Of course, not all humans were like that, but it was just a matter of time until everything would be upside down. There was just one option; humans, or mutants. They could not live together or among each other. They were too different. Erik knew this, but Charles was closing his eyes to this fakt; Charles would not give up on his hope of a world were mutants and humans would live together. He was so naive...

He talked to them, to the politics and those high-level officials and in front of the cameras, playing the role of the mediator, the charming mutant with a heart for humans and a strong believe in peace.

But the anti-mutant party had strong members as well; members with charisma, people who could easily infect others with their hate. Graydon Creed and William Stryker were just two of them.

It was another day where Charles would go for a talk with the politicians. Erik was not really happy to let Charles go again, but this time this meating wasn't too far away, somewhere near their mansion, and Charles seemed positive about the whole thing.

"Don't worry, Erik." he had said "I will contact you when the talk is over." Charles always talked to him after his conversations with the politicians, to tell Erik news he had received.

"Be careful, lab rat." Erik had muttered "You can never tell what the humans are planning." But Charles had just waved off, laughing "You are too wary, Erik. You are too wary.."

Yes, Erik had been too wary.

And he had been right.

Now he wished he would have stopped him...

"Mutants are not a big group,possessing one set of attitudes or goals. We are individuals - as are we all - and should be judged as such."

"And, why should we believe you?" Creed snarled, his eyes on Charles, who stood on the podium behind the lectern, in the circular hall of an university. "This whole mutant thing, how can you assure us that no human will be harmed? How can you assure us that you freaks are not going to kill us with your 'superpowers?'" A murmur went through the crowd,several men nodding in agreement. "You individuals possess some pretty terrifying powers. How are we common folk to defend us against you?"

Charles pressed his hand on the lectern, his gaze on Creed. The blonde politican was one of the men who was the hardest to convince. He was so consumed by his hatred that he ignored everyone who tried to change his point of view. Charles took a deep breath as he answered with a kind and gentle smile "Of course I can not speak for all of our kind, but I can assure you; no one wants a war. I am sure we all want to live together in peace and-"

"Peace?" a man in a black suit asked. "What about the revolts? What about all those mutants on the streets who could easily rob us? Or kill us? What about those who hate us humans?"

More whispers of approval.

Charles cleared his throat, trying to stay calm and professional "The hate is understandable, as well as your distrust. We are a new and different kind; differences and disagreements are inevitable." he made a short pause. "But I am sure that we all can manage to live and work together, without distrust and fear and-"

"Inacceptable!" Creed shouted, standing up and pointing at Charles , whose gaze turned back to the blond politican. "Mutants are and will stay a danger to the normal public! They are living nuclear wepaons!" Nodding and several shouts of agreement. "The ever increasing number of mutants poses a clear and present danger! Is it even fair to call mutants 'human'? I thought you call your kind 'homo superior' , which leads to a different species all together!"

Charles mentally sighed; they did not listen to him. They didn't even try to understand him. "That's not completly true!" he began "We are human too. We have the same basics as you, there are just some small differences-"

Creed cut him off, not caring for what Charles wanted to say "That is why I want a registration for every mutant! And that is why I want the dangerous ones to be locked away, or no, wait! All should be locked up! "

Clapping.

Creed sat down again,a sneer on his lips.

Charles looked at those faces in front of him, at all those humans who didn't even try to understand what he wanted to tell them. They didn't believe in a future with mutants. They wanted to have the world for themselves; there was no more space for another race. Charles pressed a hand against his forehead as a headache began to come up. Too many thoughts, hateful ones, and so many different emotions hammering against his mental shields. So much hate and disgust, it made Charles sick.

"Please, gentlemen!" Charles leaned forward, his blue eyes directed at the men in front of him. "I know that this topic is difficult to handle, but if you could listen to me for some minutes-"

"Are you trying to manipulate us, Xavier?" Stryker shouted from one of the higher rows. "As far as I remember you are able to do that, am I wrong?" the eyes of the old man narrowed and a contemptuous smile crossed his lips "Or was it 'just' telepathy?"

The politicians were upset now; Charles could feel their mistrust getting stronger and their hate and fear rose higher and higher.

"A telepath?" Creed shouted in disbelief "That's totally inacceptable! Someone like you shouldn't be allowed to walk in public!" He turned to his colleagues "What if he uses his powers to control us! Who can say that he won't take our free will! Who can tell how many other telepaths are out there to control us humans?"

Charles pressed his lips together, knowing that he had lost his fight today. They would not listen to him anymore, no; in fact their distrust had grown. Creed and Stryker had them in their hands; they could manipulate human minds better than Charles could ever do without his powers. Stryker was playing to the audience. He always came across as such a nice, personable guy. The humans loved him.

The blue eyes telepath sighed as he tried one more pathetic attempt to speak up, but no one was listening to him "Please, gentlemen! I know that my powers might scare you, but I would never use them against anyone without their premission! I-"

"You say that!" Stryker cut him off as he stood up "But who tells us that all the other telepaths will do the same?" he slammed his fist on the small table in front of him "And who tells us that you are telling the truth?"

It was a total chaos then. No one listent to him anymore, they screamed at him, pointing at him, calling him and the others freaks. At the end, Charles felt totally tired and down. He knew that not all humans were like this, but it hurt him to see and feel so much hate. Sometimes he asked himself if Erik was right...

It was late at night now and dark outside as he left the building. He was on the way to his care, lost in his thoughts about mutants and humans. Why couldn't they just live together, without any hate and fear?

They were the same; there was just a gene that differed them from the humans! Charles could understand the fear they had, but he wished they would try to see things from the view of the mutants. He wished they would see that they were no danger to them..

He put his hands in the pockets of his beige-colored coat and took a deep breath of cool air. His head was better now, and the fresh air helped him to clear his mind and calm him down. He was just about to cross the street as he suddenly heard a small cry. He stopped, took a deep breath and listened. First he just heard some cars in the distance, but then he could make out some voices which seemed to come from a side alley.

Hastily he walked towards the alley, his powers outstreched. There; he could feel the minds of several men, six, and two teenagers, a boy and a girl. The teenagers were scared, the men seemed to be...angry? _A robbery?_ Charles turned around the corner and stopped.

The men stood around the teenager, two of them with knives in their hands. They looked as if they had fun, smug grins on their faces, laughing at the frightened teenagers. A girl with brown hair clutched the left arm of a white-haired boy, here wide eyes staring at the men around them. They looked like normal teenager, wearing modern clothes. It seemed that they had been on the way to a party. Charles had to look twice until he noticed that the teenage boy had slightly blue skin and white eyes; a mutant. That was the reason for the anger of the men..

"Ya mutie!" one of the men spat. He had normal clothes on and looked like a normal citizen, like one of those too normal men whom you would never expect to harm anyone. No one except for mutants..

"Leave him alone!" the girl cried "Please, he has done nothing wrong!" A big , bald man grabbed the girl and yanked her away from the boy. "He is a freak!" he snarled with a deep voice.

Charles knew that he had to do something. He could feel the hate of those men, ,pounding in his head like steady impulse. Their hate was directed at the boy! At a boy! He was just a child, but all they could think of was that he was a mutant.

Why did they hate them so much?

Was it just the fear, or were their also jealous?

Charles tried to understand them, but he could not. It was simple incomprehensible to him.

No one should harm another being just because it does exist.

The girl cried out as the man tightened his grip, and Charles took several more steps forward "Hey!" he shouted, pointing at the man who held the girl "Let them go, all of you! You have no right to hurt them!"

The men stared at him, then they began to laugh. "Says who?" the blond one asked. His voice was too high for a man. "He's a fuckin' mutie, for god's sake! It is better to get rid of them!"

"He is just a boy!" Charles eyes flashed with anger "Do you honestly want to kill an innocent child!" The bald man let go of the girl and was about to beat Charles down, but Charles dodged the blow because he had known what the man was about to do; a quick glance in the man's mind had been enough. The man hissed in surprise "You're one of them as well!"

Charles took the moment of surprise as he called the mind of the teenagers _Don't worry._ he calmed them, _Everything will be alright._ The kids stared at him with wide eyes, too scared to mentally answer him.

The telepath narrowed his eyes as he answered "That's true. And I would be able to force you to let them go, but I won't. I want to give you the chance to let them go by your own choice."

The other men stared at him as well, unbelievingly, then they began to laugh again.

"Hey, I know you." a gray-eyed man said, pointing with his knive at Charles. He was at least one and a half head taller than Charles. "You are the TV-mutie guy, right? What was your name..Xi...Xu...Xavier!" The other men mumbled now, clearly impressed. "I heard of you! You are one of the most fuckin' freaks of all!"

Charles pressed his lips together, his eyes narrowed. "That's right." he answered his voice calm and steady, but in truth he felt sick and nervous. Of course, he had his powers; he could stop them any time he wanted, but he wouldn't. The men deserved the chance do the right thing on their own.  
He should not force him.

Though, it was like a stab through his heart. Most fucking freak.. As if his gift was something evil, as if he was something bad..

Why were they so full of hate? What caused this hate? Was it simply fear, or arrogance? Did they want to show that humans were, still, the strongest species, stronger than mutants?

What was their reason to attack mutants, even young ones?

A simple glance into their minds would tell Charles everything, but he refused to take a look. He told himself it was because he accepted their privacy, but deep down he knew that it was because he feared what he would find in their minds. He didn't want to lose his illusion of the good men. Maybe he was naive, but he held on on his belief. Maybe the truth was that humans and mutants would never accept each other, but Charles refused to give up his hope so easily. The reality was too painful to let go of the illusion he made.

"I beg you..." Charles said, carefully and his voice serious "Please don't make the wrong choice. You can be one of the better men, just don't hurt anyone. Hate and pain will lead to nothing.." he trailed off, his too blue eyes staring right into the dark ones of the human.

The man turned back to the teenager, who clutched each other tightly, shivering with fear. "Okay, good." the bald man said, slowly "We will let them go." the man turned around to his friends and nodded towards the boy." Let the freak go."

"What?" the blonde man hissed "But,I thought we-"

"Let the kids go." the bald man repeated, his voice stern. The other men stood there for several more minutes, clearly not agreeing with their boss, then they stepped aside.

The teenager still shivered with fear as they grabbed each others hand and ran past Charles, giving him a thankful glance. _"Thank you, mister!"_ Charles could hear the boy say, then they disappeard behind the corner. Charles heart grew lighter; the kids were safe. The men had made the right choice. Maybe they weren't as bad as they had appeared.

He turned back to the men, about to thank them for making the right choice, as a fist hit his chin. He stumbeld backwards, feeling dizzy.

After that, everything happened too fast. Charles could not tell how it happened, and why he hadn't used his powers. Maybe he was too shocked,or maybe it was because of the blows to his head. Yes, it must have been because of something like this...

"You think you can tell us what to do?" the bald man asked with his deep voice, pushing Charles to the wet ground. It had rained one or two hours ago. Charles tried to sit up, ready to use his powers and freeze the men as a boot met his stomach, sending him back to the floor. He groaned in pain, clutching his stomach. Steel cap shoes...

He was yanked upwards by his hair and he hissed in pain as the hand tightened around the strands of brown hair. "We've let the freak go, because you've asked us to. But now we need another mutie!" Laughter.

Charles looked up at the grinning faces "This is wro-" he started, but then his head was slammed against the nearest wall. He gasped, his vision blurring. The hand in his hair let go of him, and he fell to the ground again.

"Well,guys.." the leader said with a dark grin on his face "He's all yours."

And then it began. He could not tell how many boots kicked him, or how many fists hit down on him. All he was aware of was pain. _Pain_ ,everywhere.

 _Why?_ , he asked himself over and over again. _Why are they doing this? Is their hate and scorn so great?_ He felt like they didn't only break his body and bones, but also his heart and his hopes, shattering them to pieces.

He felt his ribs crack and break under the pressure of the boots, causing him to cry out loud, and one of the blows broke his nose. Blood ran freely down his mouth and chin as he gasped for air. His right eye was swollen after mere minutes.

He coughed, trying to get air,trying to stop the men, but he was too weak. He was pathetic without being able to use his powers... If he had trained his body..But no, he had been to lost in his studies about powers and mutants, there had been no time to train his body strength. But,he would not give up so easily! He grabbed one arm while he lashed out with his free hand, his legs kicking wildly and desperatly. The fear began to crush his throat, and it began to get harder and harder to get air into his lungs. Every breath sent a wave of pain through his beaten body, and the broken rips began to pierce his lungs. It did hurt. A lot. It took him all his will-power and self-control not to cry. But he couldn't stop the small cries of pain that left his mouth.

"Hey, hold this fuckin' freak down!" one man cried, as Charles managed to kick him with one of his feet. A gleam of satisfaction went through Charles as he heard the pained voice of the man, but this gleam was soon supressed by a new wave of pain.

They began to hold his arms and legs down, so that he had no chance to lash out. His mind was dizzy, blurry, he was not able to focus on any of their minds.

He came to one conclusion; this men were evil. He had to defend himself, else they would kill him without hesitation.

He reached out with his blurry mind, his powers clumsy and unfocused, grabbing hold on the next best mind he could get _; Let me go!,_ he demanded. The man who held down his right hand let go of him and stepped aside. "What are you doin', Brain!" the black-haired man to Charles' right side screamed, then his gaze went down on Charles, who gave him a weak smirk. "This fuckin' mutie scum was in my head!" the man screamed, holding his head as if he was afraid to lose it.

Now that Charles' hand was free he balled it into a fist and hit the man to his left ito the face. The man stumbled back, hissing in pain. Charles tried to sit up, but was pushed down again, the air knocked out of his lungs and a painfull stab went through the skin above his right lung as one of his ribs tried to break through it.

"You fucker!" the blonde man walked up to Charles, his hand pressed on his bleeding nose.A powerful kick with the boot against Charles' head made Charles' vision swim and his head pounding in stabbing pain. His mind was blurry again, and he could not grab hold of any of their minds. It was as if a fog was over his mental vision..It made him afraid. He never had been in such a situation. Not even Kurt or Cain had ever made him feel so miserable. Their punches were nothing in compare with the raw violence of those men around him.

"Hold his arm down!" Charles' arm was held down while he desperately tried to struggle free. The blonde man gave him a disdainful glance, his eyes full of hate, as he lifted his boot above Charles' right hand. Charles pained cry echoed through the whole alley as the boot smashed his hand. He could feel the bones breaking under the pressure, and a sharp pain went from his hand up to his arm. "How dare you to put your dirty mutie fist into my face!"

God,it hurt!

Tears began to from in his eyes, but he swallowed them down. He would not give them the satisfaction to see him cry!

"You little rat!" the blonde man hissed, stepping around him. Charles struggled and struggled, trying to get his legs free to kick the man. Normally he never intended to hurt anyone, but this time it was different; this time he had to hurt them to get away alive. They would kill him, god, he felt their hate, oh god.. "You think you can hurt me, heh!" the blond man squeaked, stopping at the side of Charles' left leg. "I will hurt you, you fucker! I will break your bones till you're just a weeping mass!"

Charles pressed his lips together, trying not to sob. This could not be true, this must be a nightmare.."Why?" he coughed, new blood welling up and dripping down his mouth. He must have internal injuries, probably a rib piercing his lung.. "Why..ah...are you..doin..?"

"Because.." one of the men, the nobel looking one, said "...you shouldn't be allowed to live! You are freaks, abnormal freaks! You don't deserve to live! You are just freaks who try to kill us and our families, freaks who think they are better than we are!" he grabbed Charles' arme tightly, squeezing it painfully "You are arrogant bastards! Devils! God never meant mutants to be born!"

Those words...They did hurt even more than the punches and kicks. Charles' heart was beeding, bleeding, because he could not understand.. He simply could not understand why someone would think such things about mutants.

 _Has Erik been right?_ , he silently asked himself, as he looked up at the faces above him. He could barely see them in the dim light of the alley. _Oh Erik_...If he would be here..What would he do? Charles knew he was not weak, but at the moment he felt pathetic..At the moment he wished Erik would be there. But Erik would kill the humans..No, no, killing is no option! God, how could this happen? And..why?

Charles felt like crying.

This was not fair.. He saw his dream crumble into pieces...

 _NO_! No, this were just a few men, not all humans! This were just a few men full of hate against mutants.. Men that would probably kill him.

" _Please_.." he whispered, blood dripping down the corner of his mouth, forming a little puddle of blood on the ground. " _Please, don't.. ah...do this..I_ -"

"Shut up, fucker!" someone to his right hissed. The blond man lifted his boot again, above Charles' shin, and Charles knew what would come next. "No!" he tried to sit up again,tried to reach out with his powers, but was held down against the ground. He tried to struggle free, but it was useless.

The boot crashed down and a horrible crack was heared. "AHHHhahaa!" Charles screamed at the top of his lungs, and this time one or two tears rolled down his face. "Hah,do you like it?" the man asked, and laughter was heared.

His mind was full of pain, his own pain, and he felt dazed. It did hurt so much..It hurt so much..He couldn't focus on their minds, he could not grasp them..Why? He was always in control,always.. Why not this time?..

 _Somone help me_ , he plead with a shiver, feeling more pathetic than he had ever felt. A part of him hated himself for being and acting so weak, the other part was simply too afraid to die.

He was just human in that case, after all.

The boot crashed down on his already broken leg, and Charles arched up against the hold of the men. "AHHHHHAA!" he screamed, his voice already slightly hoarse "S..Stop.." he whimpered, because he couldn't stop himself. He wished he was stronger, but he was not like Erik, he never had been..

"Erik.." he sobbed silently, not aware of doing so.

"Heh, did you hear that?" the black-haired man leaned down,poking Charles' side with his knife, causing him to squirm against their hold. "Did he say..'Erik?'" The men looked at each other, then they began to laugh out.

"Who's Erik, heh?" a man laughed out "I bet it his is fuickin' boyfriend!" They looked down on him, and he could not stop the tears that ran down his face, because it simply did hurt to much. He ached all over. Not only his body, but also his soul. "Look, he's not only a freak, he's also a fag!"

Words can hurt more than kicks and punches could ever do. Charles knew now why.

"Whoa, how disgusting!" Someone kicked Charles's side, but Charles was barely aware of it, being too dazed with the constant pain in his leg and hand and the stabbing pain of the broken rib against his lung.

"Let's give the fag what he wants!"

This was just about humiliation.

He couldn't quite remember what happened afterwards.

Later he would remember. He would remember their rough hands on his skin, he would remember their laughter, the hard thrust; he would remember everything.

But, not now.

Now he came back to awareness, his mind blank, his memories black. Maybe he had locked them away, unconsciously, to save himself, maybe it was the shock.

He sat there, and all he saw was the dark alley and the dead bodies of the men. He could not remeber what had happend.

Later he would.

Later he would remember that he hadn't been able to take it any longer, that he killed them with a mere thought and the pain he had felt, that he had told their brain to stop the function of breathing.

Yes,later he would remember a lot..

He felt numb. Inside and outside. He could barely feel the cold asphalt or the wind. He felt nothing. His mind was blank, empty, and all he could do was stare ahead. He could think of nothing.

He couldn't even think of how pathetic he should feel, or that he should hate them.

He couldn't even ask himself 'why?'. He couldn't even cry. He couldn't ask himself if he would ever be able to ever trust any humans again. He couldn't ask himself if he still believed in his own dream.

Later he would.

Later he would ask himself why this had happend, why they had done this, and why he hadn't been strong enough to stop them.

Charles sat there, for several more minutes, until he slowly stood up, pulling his trousers back up and smoothing his blood-stained shirt with his left hand, his right hand tightly pressed against his chest. Every movement did hurt, made him feel dizzy,sick and every breath was a pain. His shattered leg could barely hold his weight, and he swayed dangerously. He pressed his left hand against the wall for support, his stomach growling in protest, and he was close to throwing up.

He was under shock, a small voice in the back of his head told him. He still could not process what had happened to him.

Later he would.

Then he would have his mental breakdown.

But, not now.

Now all he could think of was that he wanted to go home.

A voice inside his head told him that he should probably search for a hospital, for any help, but this voice was small and his mind too blank to listen.

He wanted to go home.

God, all he wanted was to go home..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God loves,man kills:
> 
> "Mutants are not a big group,possessing one set of attitudes or goals. We are individuals - as are we all - and should be judged as such."
> 
> "You individuals possess some pretty terrifying powers. How are we common folk to defend us against you?"
> 
> "The ever increasing number of mutants poses a clear and present danger! Is it even fair to call mutants 'human'? I thought you call your kind 'homo superior' , which leads to a different species all together!"


	3. Horror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, the first three lines that Erik, or Magneto, says at the beginning are taken from the comic "Magneto testament" , which follows the live of Max (Erik) in the time of 1935-1945. It is a really sad but great comic, which also shows his horrible time in the camps. You should read it, because it basically is history,and history is always important..

_I watched thousands of men,women and children walk to their death._

 _I saw thousands of murdered people burning in giant outdoor pits._

 _I have seen at least a quater of million dead human beings with my own eyes...and I couldn't save a single one.._

 _I swore to myself; I will never let this happen again._

 _And that I won't._

 _This time I will stop them before it is too late._

 **Chapter 2**

The light of the bus was too garish for his sensitive eyes, and every jolt that the bus made was sending a new wave of pain through his body. His head was leaned against the cool window and he was trying to breath properly.

Just two other human sat with him in the bus, though no one looked at him. Even the bus driver hadn't said anything.

Charles knew why.

It was the M above his right eye; the M that the men had carved into his skin. He shuddered, closing his eyes tightly as he tried to get rid of the horrible memory.

 _"Shut up, mutie!" the man hissed as he pressed him against the wall.  
_   
_He tried to breath, but the hand against his throat crushed his airway. The knife cut into his skin, and he heard himself whimper because of the hot pain. Blood ran down and over his right eye, coloring his vision red._

 _He had been taken once already, his body aching; this was just a short pause for him, if you could call this pause... He had been crying badly because of what had happened to him mere minutes before, but now he wasn't even strong enough to continue the crying._

 _"What are you doing there?" The voice of a young women cut through the air, and the men turned to the young lady, who stood at the entrance of the alley._

 _Oh god, please help me!, was all that he could think of, but he was not strong enough to send her the plea._

 _"He is a mutant!" the black-haired man next to Charles snarled "He deserves this! It's his punishment for being alive!"_

 _Charles heart turned cold, and he began to shiver violently. He couldn't cry, but if he could he would._

 _The women stared at the men, and for one split second Charles believed she would call the police and help him, but then she simply turned around, pretending to have seen nothing. Just because he was a mutant.  
_  
He would have taken his car, but he was afraid he was not strong enough to drive it. So that was why he sat here,in the bus, driving together with humans which ignored his presence.

If there wouldn't be an M over his eyes, if they would not know that he was a mutant, would they help him?  
 _  
Where does this racism come from?_

Charles could not understand it.

He could not understand how people, humans, could hurt someone just because he or she was slightly different than others.

Weren't mutations supposed to be groovy? Aren't you supposed to be proud of being a mutant?

What had gone wrong?

Was it the fault of the mutants, or the humans?

Was it someone's fault at all?

Would there always be violence among them?

Charles had no answer to those questions.

For the first time he had no answer..

He could not tell how late it was as the bus arrived at the sation which was near the mansion. They had taken his watch.

He could barely walk, so he limped down the small path, swaying dangerously. Every step did hurt, and he was not able to think of something else than the pain in his body and soul. His mind was still blank, dizzy, and the small, clear, part of his mind told him that he was still under shock.

When would the shock wear off? And, what would he do then?

Maybe, if he would be in his right mind, he would be afraid and ashamed of facing the others, but at the moment all he wanted to do was to curl up in his bed. He never wanted to face anyone again.

His mind was surprisingly calm and quiet.. He couldn't hear any voices.

It was the silence he was afraid of. It had never been quiet inside his head, and now he couldn't even hear his own inner voice.

His head was pounding. Probably a concussion...

He couldn't tell how long he limped, but he could tell that he had to vomit twice, and that he had to make at least five pauses to get his air back into his lungs, which ached with every was a pitch black night, and the street lamps were dim, barely spending any light. There were no lights at the sides of path which lead to the mansion, and only the light of the kitchen window lead him the way back.

The last meters towards the main door were the worst. He felt like turning around and running away, hiding somewhere were no one would find him, even not Raven, and also not Erik. His hand trembled badly as he searched for the key in the pocket of his coat. He hoped that everyone was already in bed. He did not want to handle with them right now. God, what would they thing of him?..

Somehow he managed to get the key into the lock, and he also managed to open the door quietly with his left hand. He stumbled into the dimly lit corridor. Now he had to get up into his room, then he would finally be alone..

"Charles?" Ravens voice called from the kitchen. "Is that you?" Of course it was him, who else could it be?

He could hear her footsteps approaching, she would see him, she would, she would, she couldn't.. What would she think? He stood there, couldn't move; he was like frozen. His hand clutched the doorhandle for support, his breath quickened slightly.

"Where have you been for so long? I thought you've wanted to be home at 11 o'clock!" her voice was cheerful, but slightly angry. She had probably been waiting for him all the time, because she always did. She never could sleep probably if he wasn't in the mansion.

He wished she wouldn't come around the corner, but she did. And her cheerful face turned into a shocked grimace.

"H-Hey R-Raven.." he stammered, his voice hoarse and weak because of the screaming "I..I think I d-don't feel w-well." That was when his legs gave way under him.

Raven's desperate scream could be heard through the whole mansion...  
...

Erik had been waiting for Charles to call, but the call never came.

He had tried to contact him, but it was as if the line was dead.

Erik was someone who wasn't easily worried, especially not about his boyfriend who was one of the strongest mutants, but he could not help himself; this time he was worried. Maybe it was because he could not reach him, or maybe it was because of the weird feeling that he had in his stomach.

He sat in his room, gazing out of the window, and waited. And waited, and waited..

He had been sure that Charles would soon arrive, as he always did.

But he didn't..

Charles Francis Xavier never comes too late.

But he did.

And the time went by, and then it was half past eleven, then it was twelve, and then it was quarter past one..

If he would be later, why didn't he call him then? Charles was someone who would never let them wait, who would tell them anything, never letting them worry..

Something must be wrong..

It was almost two am and he was half asleep as he was jolted awake by Raven's scream of anguish. He immediately knew that something was not right.

He ran along the dark corridor, jumping down the stairs, almost stumbling over his own feet. "What is the ma-" he began to ask, but stopped as he reached to end of the stairs.

He would have expected anything; anything but what he saw now.

His hands dropped down to his side, his stare was blank as he stared at the scene in front of him. He felt his throat go dry, and his heart clenched painfully. "Oh mein Gott.." was all he managed to breath. "Oh mein Gott..Das kann nicht wahr sein.."

The blood was too red against the pale skin and the white of Charles' shirt, dripping down on to the dark wooden floor. They were kneeling on the floor, Raven clutching her brother in a tight embrace, sobbing, while Charles was painfully quiet, staring ahead with a blank expression in his usually so bright blue eyes. He looked half dead, almost like a corpse..

There was so much blood.. Erik could not see much of Charles, because of the dim light of the corridor, but what he saw looked horrible enough. He was shocked, so shocked that he could just stand there and stare.

"What's the matter here?" Alex and Sean came down the stairs, followed by Hank. The teenager stopped behind Erik on the stairs, staring down at Raven and Charles.

Sean pressed his hand against his mouth, maybe because he didn't want to scream out loud, maybe because he was sick. Alex just stared, his eyes wide in shock, while Hank rushed past them.

Weird, how calm and collected the blue furred boy seemed while the others were totally shocked... "He needs to go to the hospital, immediately!"

Erik shook his head to clear his mind. "Are you **mad**?!" He rushed next to Raven, who was still clutching her brother. Charles was still conscious, but not responsive. "A hospital, full of humans? Humans, who did **THIS** to him!"

Raven sobbed as he said that, and Hank just stared at him in disbelief "Erik, we have to do what's the best for him! We cannot keep him here! He is half dead, for god's sake! He needs medical treatment, **now**!"

"Fine!" Erik hissed, carefully taking Raven by her shoulders, his voice calm as he said, "Raven, dear, you have to let him go now. " Raven shook her head, sobbing even more and shaking badly "N-No!" she hiccuped, tears streaming down her face while she clutched Charles tightly. "Raven.." Erik leaned towards her "I can understand you, but you have to let go of him. We have to help him, and we won't be able to help him if you continue to clutch him here on the floor."

Raven stayed there for several more minutes, then she let go of Charles, who nearly sagged forward, but was held by Erik. Charles' breath hitched as Erik bent towards him and picked him up from the floor, carefully, as if he was made of glass. Erik could feel him shudder against him, his breath shallow and his skin, hot with an upcoming fever, sticky with blood.

Erik did not look down on Charles as he walked up the stairs past Sean and Alex, because the metal-bender was sure he wouldn't be able to carry on if he saw the blood smeared face of Charles.

"Erik what are you doing?" Hank asked "That's not the way to a hospital, we-"

Erik turned his head to Hank, his eyes cold as he answered with a steady voice "I know! But as I told you, I will never let him be touched by any human again!"

"How can you be sure that this was a human?" Hank glared at him, and Erik nearly laughed out as he answered with a bitter voice "Because-" he said "-no mutant would harm another mutant without a reason. "

"This makes no sense! Everyone could have done this!"

Erik just turned back and walked up the stairs; he would not discuss with Hank now, not when Charles was needing help. Charles head was resting against his chest, and his pale , blood-stained left hand clutched the fabric Erik's turtleneck tightly. He was wheezing, his breath rattling and heavy.

"E-Erik!" Raven stood up and stumbled to the stairs "Hank is right! He needs professional help! Please, Erik, I ..I don't want him to die!" She was hysterical, hyperventilating.

Erik stopped again, and this time Charles let out a small whimper of pain. "I know.." he mumbled "But I won't take him to a hospital. " he turned to Raven and Hank. "Okay; you two, call a doctor, the family doctor, whatever! Someone shall come here, because I won't let him be taken anywhere."

One human would be okay. One human to save Charles' life..

 _I will watch over him_ , he thought, his lips firmly pressed together as he continued his way to Charles' room. _I've lost everything once, and I will not let it happen again. I won't let them destroy my, our, life. We don't deserve this kind of treatment._

Charles was awfully quiet, even the always present touch of his mind was gone, and just suppressed whimpers and pained coughs could be heard. The grip on Erik's turtleneck was firm, his hand trembling in a desperate grasp.

Charles was not crying.

Erik wasn't even sure of he was aware of his surroundings.

He opened the door to Charles' room with the flick of his wrist, then he walked towards the big double bed and carefully placed Charles down on it. Immediately Charles curled up into a ball, lying on the big bed while his blood seeped through his clothes and the sheets.

Erik walked back to the light switch, and for one moment he was hesitating because he knew he wouldn't want to see what he was about to see. But, he had to, because he had to help Charles.

He turned on the light and slowly turned around to the bed. His breath stopped and his jaw clenched tightly as he saw what he never had wanted to see. His hand came up against his face,running over it, and he felt sick.

"Oh Gott, Charles.."

He was near crying, and it took all his will power not to cry. He could not cry now, because Charles was needing him. He would cry later.

The metal-bender walked up to the bed, carefully sitting down on it. Charles flinched slightly, turning away from Erik while his body shivered violently.

It broke Erik's heart, to see his friend, his love, like this, and he felt close to vomiting. "It's alright now, Charles.." he said, his voice broken because he was so close to tears. "It's alright now, it's alright. Don't worry, we'll help you."

The best would be to take a look at the wounds to clean them up. A bath would probably be good, for the start..

And that was when Erik began to undress Charles, all the while talking to him, soothing words, trying to calm him down. Charles, however, wasn't aware of any word he said. He just shivered, his breath comming out in small puffs, his left hand grabbing Erik's turtleneck again, as if he was afraid that Erik would go and leave him alone.

The wounds were horrible.

There was no part of his milky-whit skin unharmed. Deep cuts and scratches, dark bruises and broken bones.. At some point, Erik stopped counting. And there was so much blood.. Charles chin and mouth was full of it, his forehead as well,his white shirt was almost complete soaked red and the left leg of Charles' brown trousers was red with blood as well.

It made Erik sad and angry.

There was, however, one thing that made him more angry anything else.

The M above Charles' right eye.

Humans.

It had been humans, because only humans were capable to do something sick like this.

 _It starts with the marking..M for mutant, for everyone to see.._

"Shh..." he mumbled as he carried Charles to the bathroom of his room. His own clothes were full of Charles' blood by now. "Shhh, it's alright, it's going to be alright.."

Charles didn't refuse as Erik put him into the warm water, neither did he say anything as Erik began to wash away the blood from his body. He could barely hold himself upright and had to be kept upright by Erik.

Soon the water of the tub was pink.

Charles skin was hot with a fever, his eyes glassy and half-lidded, and his hair wavy hair stuck to his forhead. Erik winced as he saw one of Charles' ribs, which had slightly pierced through the broken skin. He also noticed that Charles' right hand looked worse, as well as his left shin; heavily bruised bulges could be seen, and Erik assumed that the bones under the skin were badly broken, if not even shattered completly.

The telepath was still under shock, not realising what had happened, else he would cry badly now, at least because of the pain, because that was what everyone would do in his condition, even the great telepath Charles Xavier. But, he probably was too dazed to be aware of the pain.

Erik stroke away the blood-soaked strand of hair, pulling it carefully behind Charles ear, running his thumb over the hot cheek. "Es tut mir so leid, Charles.." he whispered "That should not have happened. This should have never happened.."

He pressed his forehead against Charles' shoulder, breathing in his scent. Normally, Charles smelled of fresh tea, of old books and a hint of cinnamon, but this time this scent was covered by the smell of blood.

It made him sick, this all made him sick..

Erik leaned back "I am going to get you out of the tub now,okay?" Charles did not answer, he didn't even look at him. All he did was staring ahead, his normally so beautiful warm eyes were dull and glassy, without a hint of life in them.

Like a doll.

Like something that had been broken.

This was when Erik realized that it was true; they had borken him. They had broken the only man who could have been able to bring together the mutants and the humankind.

And, Erik feared, that neither he nor someone else would ever be able to fix what had been broken.

"Erik?" Seans small voice could be heard outside the bathroom door. "The doctor is here..Hank told me to tell you that you shall bring Charles into the lab."

They had come faster than he had expected. At least something good.

The lab..That would probably mean that they had to operate him. But, what else had he had expected? Those wounds and fractures were worse than he had imagined..

"Okay.." he answered, his voice broken. "I'll bring him down.." He could hear Sean clearing his throat, but the boy said nothing and wandered back down to the others.

What were they thinking now; the teenagers, who were probably too shocked to realise what had happened to their professor and friend?Were they afraid, or simply too shocked to feel anything? Were they angry? Sad?

Erik took the towel, lifting Charles out of the tub and began to dry him off. All the while Charles made no sound. Sometimes he did whimper,but he did not scream as he accidentally brushed against his broken rib, and he did not moan. He just flinched, staring ahead with his half-lidded, dull eyes, his lips slightly parted because he couldn't breathe properly through his broken nose.

"They will help you now, Charles.." Erik told him as he dressed Charles in a nightshirt and boxer shorts. He didn't want to carry Charles down nacked, even if they would probably undress him again anyway, to examine him. "Don't worry, the pain will be over soon...Shh..."

There was already new blood seeping through the light blue nightshirt...Damn it..

Erik hurried down the hallway, down the stairs, all the way trying to be as gentle as possible. Charles head lolled back and forth, and the lids of his eyes fluttered. He was close to loosing consciousness, his breath weak and erratic, his left hand trying to get hold of Erik's turtleneck, but his grip was not strong enough.

He was pale, paler than usually, the shadows under his eyes a dark contrast to the deathly pale skin, his normally oh so red lips were almost colorless. His breathing was more of a heavy rattle and his body was limp in Erik's arms.

He had lost an amount of blood, and Erik desperately hoped that Charles would make it.

"Don't worry, Charles, don't worry.." Erik mumbled over and over again. It was meant to soothe Charles, but in fact he also said it to soothe himself..Because, maybe, if he said it out loud and often enough, he would believe it.

Raven watched him with tears in her eyes as he hurried past her down to the lab. Alex and Sean held open the doors, and Hank helped him to put Charles on to the steel table.

First it seemed as if Charles tried to grab the fabric of Erik's turtleneck tighter, not wanting to let go of him, probably because he did not want to end up alone again, now that Erik had been by his side all the time. His glassy eyes met Erik, wide with panic.

But, he let go of Erik then, too weak to hold on any longer.

"It's okay now, Erik." Hank said, grabbing his arm as Erik refused to leave Charles side. The two human doctors already began to put him under anesthesia. "Please wait outside now. We will take care of him."

He knew that Hank was right, and his gaze wandered to the two doctors. "Don't worry, Erik." Hank said, as he led him out of the lab "He..He will be okay again." Though, the blue furred mutant didn't sound convinced of his own words. Hank.. The boy was so strong in this situation, acting like an adult. The metal-bender had to admit that he admired this calmness.

Erik didn't want to leave Charles side, never again, but he knew that this was the best he could do now. He had done everything he was able to do, now it was up to Hank and the doctors to save Charles.

"Take a break, and try to sleep." Hank said as he turned around to Erik, who stood in front of the lab now "I..can't promise anything, but we will do our best." Then he gave him a small, hopefull smile.

The lab doors closed in front of Erik's eyes, and all he could do afterwards was waiting. He stood there for several minutes, just staring at the steel doors, until he finally managed to walk down the corridor.

He reached the main hall and was met by the stare of the teenagers. Sean and Alex sat together on the end stairs, both pale and silent, while Raven stood at the window, shivering, though she was not crying anymore. Her hands were balled into fists, and Erik could imagine how she felt, because he felt the same way.. The teenagers looked at him, their eyes wide and their faces stern.

They wanted him to say something, to ease the situation, but he couldn't. It would only have been a lie to tell them that he was sure that Charles would be alright again, because he wasn't.

He was as helpless now as them.

Maybe he should say something, and he opened his mouth, but he felt sick, and he was sure no word would leave his mouth, so he closed his mouth and silently walked up the stairs.

Yes, maybe he should have said something, but he had nothing to say. They all knew why it had happened, they had seen the M above Charles eyes as well.

Erik's hand trembled as he opened the door to the next best bathroom. He felt so close to throwing up, just his willpower kept him from doing so. He splashed cool water into his face, then he grabbed the porcelain sink in a tight grib and stared at his mirror image. He was pale, his hair slightly ruffled, his turtleneck littered with dark streaks and spots of blood; Charles blood.

This was when he couldn't hold it back anymore; he had seen a lot of horrible things, something that others would never be able to imagine, but this made him sick to the stomach..This was another horrible act of human violence.. Erik's hand came up to his forehead as he closed his eyes and began to cry silently. Maybe this was why he hadn't stayed with the kids; because he didn't want them to see him crying..

Why of all people it had to be Charles?

He had done nothing wrong, he had always tried to be gentle and kind, he would never harm another being..

Why Charles?

He hadn't deserved it, he truly hadn't deserved it..

Erik couldn't remember how long he had stayed in the small bathroom, crying his heart out. He could, however, remember the long time of waiting and his fear of losing Charles, the possibility that his love could die..

He felt utterly desperate.

He hadn't felt so useless and desperate since he had been a child...

 _Alles wird gut..._ , he thought, as he stared at his mirror image, which was illuminated by the light above the small cabinet. Maybe, if he were a child, he would pray to god, but his faith in god had faded long time ago.

If there was a god, would he allow such things to happen?

Or was this only a task, made by 'him', that had to be solved?

Maybe the whole life was a task that had to be solved?

Or was it fate?

Was there something like fate anyway?

Erik could not answers those questions..

And so all he could do was wait, hoping that Charles would not die.

He was even too worried to be angry at the humans.

The anger would come later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Oh mein Gott, das kann nicht wahr sein: Oh my god, this can't be true
> 
> Alles wird gut: everything will be fine


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the quote(s) at the beginning is(are) by Wilhelm Busch. He was one of the most influential humorous poet and drawer of Germany. One of the most known stories of his is "Max und Moritz".
> 
> Soo,please note that I am not a doctor, so I hope the (few) medical things I've mentioned are right xD

_*".Das Gute – soviel steht fest -  
ist stets das Böse, was man läßt.._

 _²...Wie schad, o Mensch, daß dir das Gute  
im Grunde so zuwider ist..."_

 **Chapter 3**

He stared out of the window, his chin resting on his folded hands. It was raining, the sky was gray and the metal-bender could barely see the trees in the distance; it was too foggy outside. He had no clue what time it was, but it had to be morning, around nine or ten o'clock, maybe. But, it was hard to tell..

The kids had fallen sleep on the sofa, their heads resting on each others shoulders. Raven had wanted to stay awake to be the first one to see her brother, but the crying had made her tired. Erik's gaze wandered over the sleeping figures, then back to the window.

He felt oddly calm, almost numb.

Footsteps could be heard, and the door to the living room opened quietly. Erik did not turn around as Hank walked up to him. "How is he?" he asked, his voice low, because he did not want to wake the children. He was surprised how cool and steady his own voice was sounding, even if he felt everything else than calm and collected..

The blue furred mutant sighed heavily as he sat down across from Erik. "Not good." he admitted while cleaning his glasses with the edge of his lab coat. The boy looked tired, and Erik felt sympathy for the young scientist.

Once again Erik was impressed how the boy was handling the whole situation. Maybe he had ignored the fact that it was his mentor whom he had to operate, maybe he was mentally stronger then he looked like, or maybe he was good in handling his emotions.

The boy put his glasses back onto his nose, eyeing the older man with a serious face. "Maybe we should go somewhere else." he gestured towards Raven and the others. "I...I don't think the others should hear it."

Erik nodded; yes, it was better for now. They could still tell them later..And, he was sure he wouldn't be able to see Raven cry again. The girl was such a cheerful person, and it had pained him to see her crying like this. Though, they would want to know how Charles was, and Erik would not lie. They had to face the reality. He couldn't wrap them in cotten wool; they were on their way to be adults, and they had to face the bad side of life as well. They had fought against Shaw, though this was something else now... This was not about an unknown man, this was about Charles. This was no fight with powers, this was a fight with their emotions.

This fight wouldn't be easy...

The two stood up and walked into the kitchen, where Hank sat down at the table, while Erik leaned back against the counter, his eyes on the blue scientist who had saved Charles' life.

Hank took a deep breath, pushing up his glasses; a sign that he was nervous. "Well..He is.. somewhat stable now. He's running a high fever, but he'll survive it. Uh, and he is still under anesthesia but should wake up soon..."

The boy cleared his throat, and Erik waited patiently. The poor boy had to be totally exhausted and it surely was not easy to analyse all the injuries.

"Okay,..So, he has several bruises and cuts. They will heal, but it will take some times, and he will have some scars.." He trailed off, than continued. "Then we have a serious cerebral concussion. It is hard to tell if it will have any lasting consequences.." Erik felt himself shudder; what for 'lasting consequences'?... He did not dare to ask, and so he continued to listen quietly.

"Then he has several bone fractures and cracks, such as three cracked ribs, and one broken rib which had pierced through his skin. Another one had pierced his lung, causing an pneumothorax. We did what we could do for him in this point, but I assume he will have some trouble with his breathing if he strains himself.."

"Next there are the fractures in his right hand and his left shin." He paused and his gaze became sad. "Those are the worst ones... The bones in his right hand are badly broken, and..and I think he can call himself lucky if he can ever hold a pencil again."

Erik's heart skipped a beat, and he pressed his lips together. This was.. No, this was horrible! He knew how much Charles loved to write down his ideas, and he loved to play the piano. Erik had never heard someone playing the piano with so much passion as Charles... And now he would never hear him playing it again, he would never see his skilled hand fly over the keys...

Hank cleared his throat again, looking totally down himself. He still was a kid..This had to have an affect on him.

"Well...And then we have his shin.." he trailed off, and Erik knew that it was nothing good either. "It had been broken twice and the bones are shattered. It is a complicated fracture and it won't heal well..I..I fear he won't be able to walk without any help, and I fear he will need crutches for the rest of his life. A wheelchair would be good, at least for the next few months..." He shook his head. "It is a miracle how he had managed to walk back to the mansion on this leg."

Erik's throat went dry, and his hand clutched the counter even tighter. "Excuse me,.." he said, slowly, his eyes not leaving Hank. "But do you want to tell me that they've...crippled him?"

Hank would have paled if he had normal human skin, but now he just stayed as blue as he was, his eyes a bit wider than normally. The boy pushed his glasses upwards "I..I fear so, yes."

Erik hissed in anger, close to destroying something. It had been worse enough that they had beaten him up and marked him , and now they had even crippled him! This was too much, far too much, but it would come even worse..

Hank didn't look at Erik as he spoke up again. "Well..There..There is something you should..probably know as well.." Erik focused on Hank again, his eyes narrowing as he nodded, trying to stay calm. He shouldn't let his rage take over, not now when he was with Hank. The poor boy could nothing for what had happend to Charles.

"We..found some hints and.." Hank cleared his throat, clearly nervous, even more nervous than before, wringing his hands.

"Hints?" Erik asked, concerned, a bad feeling spreading inside him. What could be even worse than what had already been said? What could be so horrible that Hank couldn't find the words to tell him?

"Erik..I.." Hank shook his head, running his hand over his face. "I am so sorry.."

"What?" Erik asked, fear beginning to creep up in him. "Hank, what is it?"

Hank sighed as he turned to Erik, his face totally serious and his eyes so sad that Erik's throat felt constricted. "I am sorry to say this but... He.." the boy paused, closing his eyes. "Charles had been raped."

Those words struck Erik like a slap to his face.

"..What..?" the metal-bender asked with shaky voice. "That has to be a mistake.." It had to be, it had to! It couldn't be true!

Hank sighed as he shook his head, his hand running through his blue mane. "I am sorry, Erik, but it is not." the leonine mutant stood up, his chair scratching over the kitchen floor. "He will probably suffer physical and psychological trauma. We will see if he need a medical therapy-"

Hank's words faded into the background. Erik wasn't aware of what the boy told him; he heard him talking, but it was just a mumble to him.

He did not know what to do . He did not know what to think.

His heart ached, his mind was blank, and he felt sick. That was why he pressed his hand against his mouth, his hands trembling. God..

"Erik?" Hank's voice was worried. "Are you...okay?" Erik felt a hand on his arm, but he didn't turn his head to face the boy. "I..I know that this is ...it is horrible.." he began to stutter slightly. The poor boy. Someone like him shouldn't know that his mentor had been violated and raped, nor should the others. Erik could hardly stand it, so how were the others supposed to take it?

Erik pushed himself away from the counter, and Hank followed the older man with his gaze as he stormed out of the kitchen, without another word, his hand pressed against his stomach.

He needed to go to the bathroom...

...It was one pm as the doorbell rang.

Erik, who had been sitting at the kitchen table, dragged himself to the door, even if he didn't feel like facing anyone. "M' coming.." the metal-bender murmured, his mind somewhere else. He felt sick and tired, as if the whole happening had sucked out his whole energy.

He would love to see Charles, but he was not sure if he was strong enough to face him. Erik did not know how to act around the other man, not after what Hank had told him.

The kids were awake by now, not feeling any better than he did. Well, at least they did not know everything...Hank had informed them about Charles' condition, but he hadn't told them that Charles would likely never walk again, or that he had been raped.. Raven would have had an emotional breakdown.

For now the kids were in the kitchen, trying to eat something, though none of them was really hungry.

"Who is it?" he opened the door, then he froze.

Moira MacTaggert.

What the hell was this ...human woman.. doing here!

"Hello, Erik!" the brown-haired human chirped. "Charles and I had an appointment today at eleven, but he didn't come. Sooo, that's why I'm here, to ask what's the matter." She beamed at him, but then she noticed his dark face and her smile dropped. "Is something wrong?." she asked, her dark eyes filled with concern.

Rage boiled up inside him and then he grabbed her by the collar of her jacket before she could say anything else . "You!" he hissed, his eyes narrowed and the knuckles of his hands white. "You damn humans, that's what happened!"

Moira choked, trying to loosen his grip. "W-What are you-t-talking about!"

Erik laughed out dryly; this stupid woman. "You destroy his life! This is your fault!"

Yes, it was their fault; the fault of those stupid human beings! His rage and hate took over, and his hand wandered upwards to close around her throat. "Argh-E-Erik!" Moira tried to push him away, but his grip on her was too firm.

He would crush her throat, he would kill her! This stupid woman should have done more for the mutants than the pathetic attempts of helping Charles. She had done nothing for them, only causing them trouble.

She was one of them, one of those idiots! She should have never met them! "I-I don't understand!" She coughed violently.

Erik shook her, giving her an ice-cold glare. As if he would tell her anything! "You don't understand? Hm! Well, I don't expect you to! You've hurt him! You've nearly killed him! "

"I- what?" Tears formed in Moira's eyes, probably because of the lack of air. What else could it be? As if this woman could understand anything, as if she had any real feelings for Charles..."I-arg-I did nothing to him, please-hng. I would n-never h-hurt him!" She was lifted up by Erik, her legs kicking in the air as she tried not to faint.

She was a human. And humans were all the same. She was no difference.

The humans thought of all mutants as the evil, putting them together to one enemy. So, why shouldn't he do the same? Moira was a human. Moira didn't do anything to assure their safty. Moira was just as all of them; ignorant and arrogant, just thinking of her own good!

She had tried to gain their trust, and now see where it got them!

Charles had laid his trust and hope into their hands, and all he had gotten was mistrust and hate, nearly gotten himself killed. She wasn't different. All she wanted was to use him, his powers. It was no secret that the CIA longed for Charles' powers. So, what was the best way to get him? First, trying to get his trust with the help of a nice woman. If that wouldn't work, they would try to break him. And, oh ho, he was broken now. So, who could tell him now that this hadn't been a plan of the CIA? There was NO one who could assure him that this hadn't been a plan of this fucking humans.

"You did this!" Erik hissed, all his hate directed at Moira, the only human being nearby. "You did this to him!"

The metal things in the house began to shake, to bend, to fly up into the air, while the buttons of Moira's jacket slowly pressed into her skin. He could feel the iron in her blood, he would boil it, would kill her from the inside, this stupid human, she deserved to die, sie did it, she did, she-

"Erik!"

Erik's head spun around, his eyes flashing with anger and raw power; Raven stood in the corridor, a sandwich in her hand, her yellow eyes wide with shock. "Erik, let her go! You're killing her!"

Erik growled, and the metal in the house creaked dangerously. "She's a human, Raven! She's one of those homo sapiens who would kill us if she was ordered to! They always do that; killing because they've been told to kill! They're the reason that Charles is hurt! Do you honestly think I would let someone like her GO?"

Raven shook her head, pointing at Erik. "No! She has done nothing wrong! You can't put all humans into one box!"

Erik laughed out dryly, turning away from Raven. "Oh, sure I can...Because they do the same with us. Just look outside, girl."

Raven snorted as she walked up to him with steady steps. "So, I thought you don't want to be like them? Why the hell are you acting like 'them' then? You're going to kill a woman just because she is a human! You're going to kill a friend of us!"

Erik threw his head back, not laughing, but chuckling darkly. "A friend? She's not a friend of ours. She never was."

"God damn it, just let her go!" Raven grabbed him by his arm, her yellow eyes glowing with anger and also..fear? Did she fear him for what he was about to do? "Please Erik!" she whispered, her voice small. "Please..That's not what Charles would want.."

Yes, Charles wouldn't want him to kill, not for him, and not for anyone else. Killing is never an option, it won't bring you peace; that's what he used to say.

For Erik, killing was an option.

For Erik, there would never be peace.

Not as long as the humans would continue to exist.

He was sounding like a murderer, but that was how it had to be; he had to make sure that his kind would survive. This time he had a chance, this time he COULD do something; it was not too late. It had barely begun.

"Erik!" Raven urged, her voice desperate. "Please!"

 _"We can be the better men..."_ Erik blinked and lowered his hand, letting go of Moira, who coughed desperatly. _We're already the better men.._ Erik smiled grimly at this memory, looking down on Moira with disgust in his cold eyes.

"I never want to see you here again, and don't you dare to ever set a foot into this house. Tell that your human friends; anyone human who sets a foot in this house will be a dead man." With that words he turned around and left her coughing at the stairs in front of the door. "Raven." his voice was cold "Close the door."

The metal in the mansion stopped moving, though Erik felt like crushing it all into a clump.

"But, Erik.." Raven, who crouched next to Moira, followed him with her gaze. "She-" "Close the door." Erik repeated, slowly and with no emotions. "Or else I'll smash it into her face."

Raven stood up, shaking her head as she turned to Moira. "I am sorry." she whispered, then she closed the door quietly behind her self, leaving a confused and scared Moira outside.

"What the hell was that?" Raven walked up to Erik, who was about to go upstairs. "You know that she had nothing to do with this! I know that you are angry at the humans, hell, we all are, but that doesn't give you the right to attack innocents!"

Erik turned to her, his face showing no emotion as he spoke. "She's a human. That's enough of a reason for me."

Raven laughed bitterly, putting her hands on her hips. "I see.." she said. "That doesn't make you better than them, Erik. In fact, it makes you one of them as well."

Erik looked at her for a long time, then he sighed. She did not understand.. Maybe she was too young, yeah, probably she was too young. He had seen what humans were capable to do. He had been in the camps. He knew what they had DONE to Charles. She didn't know. His hands clenched into fists as he tried to stay calm. "I have my reasons to do what I do. You might not understand it now, but you will in the future."

Raven shook her head, a grim smile on her face. "I am supposed to understand why it is good to kill humans? Sorry, Erik, but I won't understand that. "

"They will kill us. They will lock us away. It has already begun, you can see it yourself. " he leaned forward to her. "You might try to ignore that facts, but I know that you know that we won't be able to live together with the humans like Charles tried to believe. We are too different. They fear us, and they are right to fear us. " He leaned back, and she was quiet. "Their violence shows their fear. And their fear is great."

Raven lowered her gaze, and he knew she did understand. Hell, how couldn't she? She would never be able to go outside this mansion in her normal form without being treated as a monster, as well as Hank. She did understand him, she knew he was right, but she still tried to cling at her brother's dream.

He did not blame her; she still was just a child. Though, soon she had to become an adult to survive in this new age of hatred and fear.

Erik left her at the stairs while he went towards Charles room. He had nothing left to say. He needed to see him, maybe he was already awake..

The metal-bender opened the door; he saw Hank, who stood at the drip next to the big bed. Charles was lying in the big double-bed, and he looked so small in it, fragile and vulnerable... "Hello, Erik." the boy greeted him. Erik closed the door behind him self and walked up to the bed, carefully, as if he was afraid to scare Charles.

Charles was awake, or at least his eyes were half open, still glassy with fever and dull from the pain he had gone through. "I gave him painkillers." Hank informed Erik. "I..I will go then, so you'll have some time together..But, not all to long. He still needs to rest." Erik gave the boy a nod, and the blue furred mutant disappeared out of the room.

Erik cleared his throat as he sat down on the chair next to the bed. His heart clenched painfully as his gaze wandered over the battered body of the man he loved.

Charles was still too pale, his skin looking like wax. The circles under his eyes were dark, giving him a corpse-like appearance, dark bruises covering his deathly pale skin. He was wearing a bandage around his forehead, which covered the M above his eye, and his right hand as well as his ribcage were also covered in bandages. He couldn't breathe properly, and so he was connected to an respirator, which gave him oxygen through his nose and was beeping in a steady rhythm. Erik had no clue where Hank had gotten that thing from, but he honestly did not care. Maybe the human doctors had brought it, or Hank had built one, or Charles had had one in his lab..

Charles wavy hair stuck to his head, sticky because of the fever, and his pale lips were parted slightly. He did not look at Erik, his gaze was unfocused and directed at the ceiling. Erik was not sure if Charles was even aware that he was here. Surely he was still dazed from the anesthesia, or maybe the painkillers made him groggy. He did not remember, he wouldn't be so quiet if he already did. Erik feared the day when Charles would remember what had happened to him. Because, Erik knew it would break his heart, both of their hearts. He didn't want to see him suffer... Charles hadn't deserved this, never.

Erik sighed as he stroke over the damp hair "Hey Charles. " Charles did not answer, not verbally and not mentally. In fact, it was still too awfully quiet around the telepath. Erik pressed his lips together, his hand still patting the younger man's hair. He looked horrible, more dead than alive.

Erik swallowed hard, his hand now sliding over the bandaged hand of Charles'. This wonderful hand.. This hand which would never be able to write again, which would never slid over the smooth keys of the piano.. Charles did not flinch, but his half-lidded eyes slowely turned to Erik. He was not looking at him, more through him, and his chest rose and fell heavily with every breath.

Erik forced himself to smile, though he felt more like crying. Those damn humans..Those damn, fucking humans who had destroyed the life of an innocent man... Just because he was different.

"I am so sorry Charles..." Erik whispered, his head lowered. "I am so, so sorry..." He did not know what else to say. All words felt wrong.

If he had been there, if he just had been there to help Charles.. It would have never happened then; Charles would be alright and laughing and his eyes wouldn't be so dull and lifeless and his body not broken but alright.. And his mind, god, who knew what was going on inside his head? Who knew what would be going on if he remembered everything, after the daze had worn of and his brain somewhat recovered...? Erik knew the nightmares, he had had nightmares himself about the time in the camps and the experiments of Shaw, he still had those nightmares, and he knew that it would haunt Charles, that 'they' would haunt Charles..

Humiliation. It always was about humiliation. It made them satisfied, to know that they had destroyed a life..

They would pay for it! Whoever did this, he would make them pay! He would rip their lifes apart, he would destroy them, he would do horrible things to them! They deserved to die...

Yes, those homo sapiens who did this deserved to die! They had hurt Charles, with no reason; they had destroyed a life, had raped him and had probably tried to kill him afterwards.

Erik hated them. He truly hated them.

This was so sick, it was hard to believe that it had happened. A part of him still couldn't believe it.

But, isn't it always like this? Those bad happenings always seem like a nightmare, and in the end you ask yourself how something like this was possible to happen.

"It will be alright, Charles. " he whispered, his hand stroking over the pale cheek while he forced himself not to cry in front of his friend, his love. Though, Charles wouldn't even notice that he was crying; he was miles away, his mind too dazed with medications. "I promise; it will be alright. I will do everything to make it better."

The metal-bender stood up, placing a soft kiss on the bandaged forehead, his heart fluttering in his chest. Charles stayed quiet, not moving an inch, nor did he look at Erik. All of this was breaking Erik's heart already, and he did not know how this would end.

Would he ever be the same Charles again? Or was he forever broken?

He would take the pain away if he could. He would take all of Charles pain.

But, he couldn't, and so the only thing he could do was trying to help him through this as good as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ("Der Heilige Antonius von Padua und die Fromme Helene",Wilhelm Busch*. Lyriksammlung "Zu guter Letzt"²)
> 
> Translation:
> 
> The good is,that's for sure, always the evil that you don't do.  
> What a shame, o human, that the good is too unpleasant for you.  
> (well, I tried to translate it the best I could xD)


	5. Breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, warning; mentioning of rape.  
> Also you might note that Stryker is a bit more like he was in the comics than as he was in the movies..

_The source of all misery is power.  
And, it is not the power of body strenght; it is the power of words._

 _Words are weapons; you can bend and place them as you wish, you can cover lies by saying it is the truth. You can form your own reality just by saying the right words at the right time._

 _Words are dangerous, if used by the wrong person.  
I've seen it already, we all did._

 _Humans never learn from the mistakes they've made; they just make them again._

 _It starts again._

 _They set the citizen and public against us by telling lies about our kind.  
No one asks if they tell the truth; it has to be, because those men are politicans.  
_

 _They will follow them blindly, and this will be their downfall; they follow orders and words of men, but not a single one of them dares to use the own head._

 _What would the world be like without its greatest weapon;  
the weapon of words?_   
**  
Chapter 4  
** _  
"Mutants are evil. They are the spawn of Hell who came out of the hell to lull our minds with sins and wrong thoughts. They are NOT human! They are NOT like us! They are sons and daughters of the devil himself, because what could you call them otherwise? God has created the human race, he has made a man and a women, and he has shaped the world. He did NOT shape the mutants, because such abnormal beings are not of his thoughts. God is pure, and so are we."_

There was applause and murmur of approval.

The man on the podium reached out with his arms, his eyes those of a madman, his face grim and serious. He did believe every word he was saying. And so did the others. The headlight let his hair look like a silver helmet and the shadows under his eyes made his eyes sharp, almost glowing.

 _"Some call it evolution, I call it abnormality!"_

More applause, and the man gave his listeners a self-confident smile. His voice was strong as he began to speak further..  
 _  
"WE, the human kind, have to stop those children of the devil! WE have to stop them from luring our mind to the dark side! WE are pure, and we shall not let them take our pureness and the purness from our children! WE shall not listen to their evil words, and WE shall not have mercy on those creatures! Watch your children, don't let them be poisoned by the mind of evil! Save the poor souls of those ones who have been captured by the kind of devil and lead them back to the path of god! Have no mercy with the lost souls who have given their live to the darkness by their own will! We shall-"_

He could not take it anymore. The man grabbed the remote control, zapping to another chanel as he leaned back against the sofa. There was a bitter clump inside his throat and a part of him realized that it probably was the anger.

Who allowed them to tell all those lies?

Who gave them permission to put this under the will of god?

Why did no one SAY something against the madness that Stryker was spreading with his words?

Why were they quiet?

Maybe because they DID want to believe it. Maybe they thought it was right. It is so easy to believe the things that others say, because that means you don't have to think. You just have to act. And, when you realize what you have done there is still the option left to say that it was not your will that you have fulfilled, but the will of the man who has given you the order.

Erik clenched his teeth, his hand balled around the remote control as he glared at the women on the screen. This chanel wasn't any better...

 _"Mutants are human like you and me."_ The indian woman said; she stood in a white lab, wearing a white lab-coat and glasses. It had to be somewhere in the labs of one of those rich human employers. _"They are no monsters." the woman continued, her brown eyes directed at the camera. "They are ill. One of their genes causes the side effect what you and me call 'powers'. But, those powers are simply the side effect of the defect gene. But, with some help and patience we can find a way to heal those people and give them a chance to live a normal life-"_

Live a normal life? Erik growled as he turned off the TV, tossing the remote control on the small table in front of the sofa.

Ill people, children of the devil, freaks...

What was WRONG with being different than others?

What was WRONG with being proud of what you are?

Those stupid humans always had to find a reason that was sounding acceptable for the public; evolution as an answer was simply too simple.

If you hear that mutants are devils, you'll be afraid of them. If you hear that they are ill people, you'll pity them. The politicans used the feelings that their words were causing to manipulate the people.

You can chose what is right, but no one tells the truth. So, all you can do is chose between lies, because the truth stays unspoken.

Charles was the one who had tried to convince everybody that mutants were a new race, made by evolution.

No one had listened to him.

Why?

Because the politicans had told them not to.

There was so much rage and hate and disgust inside him, so much contemptuous and detestation, and hatehatehatehate! It cut off his airway, almost choking him.

His hands were clenched into fists as he stood in the middle of the living room. He could feel every tiny metal piece in the room, could feel them humming and vibrating because of his anger..

At the moment, all he wanted to do was **destroy** ; he wanted to destroy the source of all misery, he wanted to destroy the human race so that they, the mutants, could live in something that could be called peace.

His lips were tightly pressed together as he lifted his gaze to take a look out of the window, his fists trembling. It was spring, the birds chirped, the life was beautiful..

It was an illusion, such a lie outside there! Nothing was alright; everything began to crumble, but the outside seemed just fine while the inside began to rot away..

"H-huh?" Erik turned his head to the doorway; Sean stood there,his hand pressed against the frame, his green eyes eyeing Erik with a frown. "Everything alright man?"

Erik clenched his jaw as he opened his fists; the metal things began to stop shaking, and the room was left quiet, without the constant humming of the metal.

"Yeah,everything fine." The metal-bender snarled as he turned his gaze back to the window. He knew that Sean had nothing to do with his anger, but he couldn't control it at the moment, his mind a mess of emotions..

"You are not in a good mood, aren't ya?" The red-haired asked, almost making Erik smile dryly; of course he was not! What else did the ginger-head expect him to be? Their life was falling down, crushed by the boots of homo sapiens, Charles life had ben destroyed by their dirty hands.. "Uh,man, you should calm down." Sean mumbled, watching one of the metal pens that was thrown into the nearest wooden wall.

This time Erik did laugh out as he turned to the boy. "Calm down?" he asked, his voice sounding raspy to his own ears. "Care to tell me how?" Yeah, how? Now that Charles wasn't there to soothe him, to calm his mind...?

"Dunno." The boy shrugged his shoulders, his large eyes watching Erik with embarrassment, not with fear. "It's just...You know, anger doesn't seem to help us at the moment, neh?" The teen rubbed the back of his head. "Everyone is a bit on the edge, I guess, though..Well.."

The boy was right. Everyone was emotional down. But Erik was an adult; he was supposed to give them strenght and hope, but all he could give them was the bitterness of reality and the despair to lose 'his' Charles..

Was it selfish to act this way? Was he selfish? Well, probably; he had always been selfish, hadn't he? Erik pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to breath in calm and steady breaths.

"S' everything alright, dude?" The voice of the boy was sounding worried. Erik wasn't used to that. Charles had been to one to worry about him, not one of those kids. Maybe Raven, yes..Well, they had become a family, it was normal for a family member to worry about the others..

"Had a bad night." Erik replied as he put down his hands to his side. Yes, he hadn't slept well this night, but how could he after what Hank had told him? He hadn't left Charles side this night, watching the other man while sitting in the green armchair.

"'Can imagine." the boy muttered, though Erik was sure he couldn't. It was then that a horrible scream echoed through the mansion. It was a scream so full of anguish and pain that Erik's heart began to clench and his breath stopped.

 _Charle_ s, Erik realized with wide eyes as his gaze met Sean's; the boy's eyes were just as wide as his own, his face had turned pale. Another scream rang through the mansion, followed by another, till it was a steady screaming. Erik brushed past Sean, who followed the older man, stumbling along the corridor.

"Wh-What's the matter?" he asked, his voice full of fear. "I don't know." Erik hissed, climbing up the stairs as fast as his long legs could carry him. They met Hank and Raven at Charles' door, and Alex was just on his way.

"What's wrong?" Erik asked the blue scientist, who flinched at the sharpness of the metal-bender's voice. "I-I don't know!" the boy stuttered, pushing his glasses upwards. "We just arrived at the door."

They all flinched as the screaming rose in volume. Raven shuddered, her arms wrapped around Hank, pressing her face into his shoulders. "Help him!" She begged, her fingers tightening in the fabric of Hank's lab coat.

Without hesitation Erik reached for the door handle, but Hank laid a hand on his arm, "Wait! You can't just go in there! "

"And why the hell not?" Erik asked through clenched teeth. He couldn't bear to hear Charles' screaming any longer; it did hurt him. "He is in PAIN! Can't you hear that!"

"Sure I can!" Hank hissed back. Normally the shy boy would never do something like hissing in Erik's presence. "But he is a telepath! We have luck that he does not project anything to the outside, but we don't know how it will be inside the room! We need to-" Erik snorted as he pushed the door open, giving Hank and dismissive glance, almost as if to say 'I don't fucking care a shit about what you think!'.

He closed the door as quickly as he had opened it, and was immediately hit with a strong mixture of _painfearselfpanicself-disgustagonydistressdespair._

He gasped for air, his eyes wide as he stumbled towards the bed. Charles was curled up to his side, face away from Erik, his small and broken form shuddering with spasms, both of his hands pressed to the sides of his head, the fingers of his left hand digging into the soft curls of brown hair. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, screaming and screaming, and his chest was rising and falling with an rapid speed, panic in every fibre of his being.

And it did hurt! Erik felt his body ache, felt as if he was on fire, white hot pain, stinging and piercing through him and _soafraiditdidhurtpainallover!_

Erik stumbled to his knees, his hands against his head as he tried to block those feelings out of his mind, but he could not! They felt like his own, he felt everything, saw everything, but those were Charles' feelings, Charles' memories..

 _"Shut up!" He was backhanded, he gasped, pain shot through his cheek and his body felt like he was being ripped into two..A sob escaped his lips, just a tiny soft sob, but the man heard it, the man who half hunched over him, his own back pressed against the cold wall, he couldnotbreathnoairhe - !_

 _"I said you shall be quiet, you damn scum!" Another thrust, laughter somewhere, another thrust, harderhardergettunbearable! A hand on his throat, no mercy, no mercy, they have no mercy!_

 _Letmegoletmegoletmego! **LEAVE ME ALONE**! **DOES HURT**!IcantstandthisI-  
_  
Erik's gasped for air, a shudder ran through his body and he hunched over his knees, pain was seeping into him, and _painfeardespair!_

He felt so used, so dirty, his mind was racing, he could not breath, pain all over, his mind was on fire, he was screaming, screaming to get it all out of his head he did not want to see it, not again, never again, it did hurt to remember, never again, never-

Erik pressed the palm of his right hand on the floor to brace himself. Half of him was barely aware that this were not his own feelings but Charles'; it felt so real, it was so real, and again everything blurred in front of his eyes and again he was Charles, lying down on the street..

 _A Boot smashing his bones, someones was grinning down on him, blood in his mouth and piercing pain in is lungs, a scream was ripped from his throat, he did not want to cry, he would not cry, no crying ITDOES **HURT**!_

 _PLEASE **HAVE** **MERCY!**_

 __The scene was shifting _, ... he was pressed against the cold wall again, his mind dizzy, he could not reach anyone, he could not thing straight, so much agony, his soul was bleeding, his body was broken, every limb and bone did hurt, and his heart was racing inside his chest, pounding against his rib cage, he was crying but he did not care that they could see him crying, it did hurt to much, so much, and this man, another now, he could not see him clearly, it was too dark here in the alley, but he saw his grin, a wide grin, wide, and those eyes gleaming and those hands rough and big, bigger than his, and he stillcouldnotbreath!_

 _Panic inside his mind, fogging his brain, but he could not fight, had no strenght left, and so he held still as he was pressed against a wall, not one sound escaping his lips, because that would mean they would hit him again, and he could not take another blow, though that would mean he would be unconscious, then he would not feel anything, but they would be disappointed, would kill him because he was for no use, so !_

 _And he was crying and crying but no one cared, and he was so afraid, the fear and panic crushing his racing heart, but his feelings began to numb, began to fade into the dullness of acceptance, but there was PAIN everywhere, and he wished they would STOP for god's sake because he was not sure if he could take any more of them, feeling already sore and used and dirty.._

 _STOP IT STOP IT! **PLEASE JUST LEAVE ME BE..**_

Maybe it would be better to die..

Another gasp, tears sliding down his face, his hands trembling, his whole body shaking as he looked up to the bed in front of him. "Charles..." he croaked, his voice as shaky as his hands. "Charles, Charles, god Charles..."

 _Beruhig dich, Charles, beruhig dich, alles ist gut, du bist hier bei uns..._

He could not hear him, he was lost inside his mind, inside his pain, deep deep, far away, somewhere else, panicfearpain.. He wanted to leave, wanted to GO, wanted to be SOMEHERE ELSE..

It was so hard for Erik to tell wich thoughts were his own; Charles mind was bleeding into his, wrapping itself around him till he was lost inside the darkness of the telepath's memories.

The room began to shake under him, things were thrown through the air,hitting the walls with loud thuds, but Erik could hardly see them as another wave of emotions and memories hit him like a fist into his guts. Though, he could hear the screams of Charles, the soft sobs in between, always present in the back of his mind. He would never be able to forget those pained screams, never..

 _His vision was blurry, panic racing inside him, but he was quiet, quiet because they had told him to be quiet, they would hurt him if he spoke another word, he couldn't afford another scream...His broken rib was pressed against his lung as he was bent against the wall, he tried to swallow down the blood in his mouth but he had to cough. It was so dark here, so dark, but maybe it was better not to see anything.._

 _He was shaking with pain and sobs, his hands weakly trying to push away the man, scratching over the skin of the human, trying to losen the grip around his throat.. Blood was dripping down his forehead, over his eye, warm and sticky, his ears were ringing but his head was so so quiet.._

 _He wished he could hide somewhere, in the back of his head, maybe, but he could not, because the pain of every trust brought him back to the reality._

 _I'll close my eyes, close my eyes, I'll be somewhere else, you are not there, I am home, I am safe and I am strong, no one's there, no one, I am alright, there is no pain, no pain, it's okay, it's alright.._

 _He didn't want to stay here. He wished he was home, with Raven, his Raven, smiling at him, and Erik, oh Erik, if he just had listened to his Erik, what would he give to be home with them now.._

 _The hand wandered upwards, grabbing his chin in a tight grip, bruising the white skin with brutal force. "He's smiling, sick weirdo. Enjoying this, aren't you, mutie fag?"_

 _Someone help me, someone help me, **SOMEONE PLEASE!**_

 _I just...I just can't take it..anymore.._

Erik snapped out of the memory once more, his breath heavy and his shirt sweat soaked. "Ch-Charles!" he rasped, somehow managing to stand up on shaky legs."Charles, calm down, it's alright!"

 _I am not here, I am not here, I am somewhere else.._

 _"Does it hurt?"_

Erik stumbled to the bed, his legs leaden and his limbs shaky. The room was a mess.. "It's okay, it's alright now.." It was more a whisper, heardly hearable through the screams of Charles. "You are safe.."

Erik reached for Charles hand, trying to calm him down, but the action only caused Charles to turn his head towards him, his dull blue eyes wide with horror and panic, his breath frantic, blood on his lips. He was far far away..

 _**GOAWAY!** _

Erik jerked back as a sharp pain went straight through his head, a beeping noise, getting louder and louder, making it hard to think. **LEAVE!** the voice screamed inside his head, at the top of it's lungs, but not only in his head; Charles screamed now, screamed that he should leave.  
 _  
 **"LEAVE!ME!ALONE!GO!AWAY!GOAWAY** JUSTLEAVEMEPLEASE-"_

And then the room blurred again, he was back in the alley...

 _The men were screaming, in pain, loud, and he sat with his back against the wall, cold wind brushing over his skin, his eyes wide as he stared at the men. DIEDIE!.. And they were hearing the beeping noise, they were trying to breath but they brain told them not to, and blood dripped down their nose and eyes and ears as they tried to stop the sound by pressing their hands against their ears._

 _FeelthepainDoesItHurt? Doesitdoesitdoesit **HURT?**_

 _And satisfaction and relief went through him, and there was **HATE** because they had **HURT** him and he would let them FEEL how it had FELT and he would make them **CRY** he would make them **SEE** he wouldhewouldhewouldhewould!_

 _What was he doing?_

 _And his heart clenched as he let go of the men, as he stared into their pale faces, dead, dead,deaddeaddead he was a murderer, -_

 _Self-hatredself-contemptself-disgust..._

 _He..had just wanted them to stop.. Not better, not any better, he wasn't any better, hehadtheirbloodonhishands!_

 __Panicking,he was hyperventilating,frantic,lashing out, crying, screaming... __

 _Please someone **MAKE IT STOP!**_

Erik coughed as he opened his eyes wide, crashing against the nearest wall, his throat dry from screaming and his eyes wet with tears. His hands wandered up to his head, gripping his hair, tugging and tightening, trying to get away..

Was it himself, or Charles? Who was he?

"Erik!" His head spun around, his wide eyes met those of Hank. The boy wore the helmet, the souvenir of Shaw that Erik had kept, and the boy seemed calm, stern, his yellow eyes serious. "Out of here, Erik! Now!"

But, no, he could not go, not now, Charles..Charles was hurt, he was in pain, he needed him he- "Lehnsherr!" Beast growled, grabbing his arm. "Out of this room, you are just making it worse!"

Worse..? Why?..

"The things, they are flying-" Erik began, his greyish eyes unfocused. Too much, too much, their emotions were a tangle-

"Latent telekinesis, a secondary mutation, set free by the memories-" Hank began, hurrying to Charles, whose hands had clenched into fists in his hair, even the worse hand, which looked even worse now.

"Let me help-" Erik lurched towards the bed, his eyes fixed on the small and broken from of his love, of Charles, his Charles, the navie, good Charles..

He was crying, so badly, and his eyes were unfocused and wide open, far too wide, and he was not here at all. And he was screaming. God,he was screaming with so much anguish and pain in his voice, and his lips were full of blood, because of his injured lung and the blood was so red against his white face, against his pale lips, and his eyes, his beautiful eyes, they were filled with horror, glassy because of the fever... He was shaking, trembling, his small body wracked with spasms..

Erik stood next to the bed, staring down on the man who had once been proud of himself, who had been naive and slightly arrogant, but a good soul, always smiling and spreading his love of life...

"Charles..."

His fingers brushed Charles cheek just slightly, it was barely a whisper over the too hot skin, but Charles stopped breathing then, shuddering, pale, biting his lips as he curled into a ball, sobbing-  
 _  
Please, please, not again, please no more..  
_  
And it nearly made him cry, because it was HIM, him, not them, and he would never hurt Charles, never..It was the trauma, it had to be, but it did hurt Erik, it made his heart bleed. What if Charles would never be able to let him near himself?

"It's me..." The metal-bender turned to the blue mutant, his voice pleading ."Tell me what to do Hank, please, let me help, I-"

Hank grabbed his arm in a tight grip, his eyes dead serious. "YOU have done enough for now." And he felt like a child, a child that was scolded, and he felt so small and his head was a mess.."I've told you not to go into this room now. I've told you.."

"Please leave now."

He blinked as he was shoved out of the room. The door shut behind him and he was met by the wide eyes of the teens.

Raven was crying.

Had she seen anything?

The teenager looked as if they were in a shock, their faces white and their eyes glassy. Alex was not there.

They did know.

They could hear Charles' screams for several more minutes, and for Erik it felt like hours; hours of screaming and pain, and the memories in front of his inner eyes, his stomach twisting and nausea approaching..

He felt numb, but he was crying.

If he just had been there to help him..

And, all the while, it had never been Charles' voice which had been speaking inside his head; it had been his own voice, always his own voice.. But he knew it had been Charles.

But, Charles was quiet now. Mentally, vocally..

There was no whisper of his mind over Erik's, no soft mumble and no soothing warmth.. It was ice cold, and all Erik could hear inside his head was the echo of Charles' screams.

And Charles would not speak, not mentally, not vocally.

They had taken it, his greatest power;

the power of words and his belief in the good...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation
> 
> Beruhig dich, Charles, beruhig dich, alles ist gut, du bist hier bei uns...:  
> Calm down, Charles, everything will be okay, you are here with us...


	6. Magneto

_Allen tut es weh im Herzen,  
Die den bleichen Knaben sehn,  
Dem die Leiden, dem die Schmerzen  
Aufs Gesicht geschrieben stehn._

 _Mitleidvolle Lüfte fächeln  
Kühlung seiner heißen Stirn;  
Labung möcht ins Herz ihm lächeln  
Manche sonst so spröde Dirn'._

 _Aus dem wilden Lärm der Städter  
Flüchtet er sich nach dem Wald.  
Lustig rauschen dort die Blätter,  
Lust'ger Vogelsang erschallt._

 _Doch der Sang verstummet balde,  
Traurig rauschet Baum und Blatt,  
Wenn der Traurige dem Walde  
Langsam sich genähert hat_

 _(Heinrich Heine, Der Traurige)_

 **Chapter 5**

A month passed, and still nothing was close to normal.

In fact, everything was as far away from normal as it had ever been. Not only the world outside the mansion, but also inside it...

It was not the world outside that scared Erik; Erik Lehnsherr was not afraid of the humans, he knew how to handle them. They wanted to start a war? He would give them war.

It was everywhere on TV now, the whole mutant registration thing and how to handle the 'new enemy'. Erik knew that they were planning something close to the holocaust, something like the exterminate the mutants; it all starts with words of hate and registration, it always does.. Erik had gone through that kind of living before, and now he had the chance to stop them, to act quicker than they would expect him to act.

The mutants needed a leader, like the humans had one; Stryker slowly pushed himself upwards to the position that allowed him to act on his own free will. The president was awfully quiet about that topic, as if he approved Strykers doing. And it was not only Stryker; also Graydon Creed was a problem, and then there was Kavita Rao, the indian women who believed that mutants could be healed..

It was a sick world, a sick world full of sick people, and Erik was used to such a world.

Yes, Erik Lehnsherr was USED to a sick world, USED to the cruel mind of the human being. He, of all people, should be afraid of the humans, should be afraid of their plans because he knew where they would lead; he had seen the pure horror with his own eyes, he had seen hell, but...he was not afraid.

There was a numbness inside him,a hole in his heart, a hole that was eating all the hate, anger, despair and sorrow. He felt cold, as if he was about to numb further and further, and it was all their fault; all the fault of the humans.

They had done this.

They were doing it.

They would always do it.

They would always be to blame.

Erik was accepting it, the fakt that he was becoming colder and colder, because he knew he needed to be cool and rationally; only a mind without emotion could lead a war, could save its kind, because emotions were always getting in the way, making everything worse.

Emotion were unnecessary in an age of pain and sorrow. Emotions are causing trouble, and the last thing Erik was needing was trouble.

Though, there was one thing that was keeping him from going completly numb; it was Charles. He could not be emotionless around the other man,could not hide his sadness, his love, his hopes, his worry about him..

Charles had not been used to a sick world. Charles had not been used to that kind of pain. Charles had been dewy-eyed, like a child, his view on the world too bright and optimistically.

Charles was not himself anymore.

Charles was someone else now.

They had broken him, and he would break them for breaking him.

Charles had believed in the good, had been able to see the good side of Erik, always seeing the good side of everyone.

He had been too good for his own wellbeing.

Charles had been sure that everything would turn out alright.

He HAD been,had, had been.. Now, however, not anymore. He was a shell, he was broken, he was somewhere else.

Erik could see it, every day, every day when he looked into those empty eyes, which were clouded and glazed because of the damn drugs, medicine, that they had to give him.

Had to, or did want to?

The world was evil, Charles mind broken and fragile, they had to keep him save, maybe, but Erik was not sure if it was wrong or right. Were they doing him good, or bad? Were they making it better, or worse? Were they saving him, or pulling him further apart?

He was slipping.. His whole being, his mind, his soul, he was flying away. His mind was somewhere else, always, in his own world, in his mind, where everything was better than in the real world.

Though, they were still haunting him, the memories of the men. Erik could hear him weeping, sometimes, at night, but he never screamed. He never, ever, said a single word. Not mentally, not vocally. He was quiet, because they had made him speechless, tongue-tied, silent..

He was slipping, falling apart, flying away, the distanced look in his dull eyes was always telling it. And it broke Erik's heart, again, always and always when he saw into the pale face which was framed by tousled brown locks, with the dark circles under the dull eyes and the thin white lips which once had been a bright red.

Charles Francis Xavier was gone, somewhere else, and he had left behind someone who was just a ghost of himself.

What would Charles think, if he could see himself now? Surely he would call himself pathetic, weak, would be disappointed and shocked, maybe even angry about his own weakness. But, this Charles was not there to scold himself, not now, never again, because they had broken him into pieces that no one could fix again. Maybe,someday, they would be able to shape a man that was close to the man that the telepath had been once, but never ever he would be like he had been before.

And it pained Erik, pained him to know this, because he had loved this man, this Charles; the optimistic, the naive fool, the arrogant man with the British accent and the calm smooth voice, the bright eyes and the milky-white skin, the man with the laughter which was able to make others laugh as well, who had a use of words that no other had, the man that could tell stories with just placing two fingers at his temple, the man that had a heart of gold, who could play piano like a god and who could drink anyone under the table. This man was no more. And, even if Erik still did love Charles Francis Xavier, he knew that their relationship would never be the same; never as thick as it had been before, and not with as much passion as it could have been, how it had supposed to be.

Those humans, they had taken his Charles like they had taken his family, and all they had left was an empty body...

...It was May now, it was sunny, sunny and warm, and the weather was mocking him. The winter would have fit better, would have shown the darkness and coldness that he felt inside, but no, no, there was the spring, smiling down on him with brilliant sun rays.

 _"I like it cold, never liked the summer."  
"Why? It is one of the most beautiful seasons!"  
"..No. It's too hot. I like the autumn. The fallen leaves remind me of gold."  
"Haha, they remind you of metal?... I like them all, all the seasons..."  
"I know Charles, because you do like everything, don't you? No matter what it is, its always 'groovy'."  
"I guess you're right, my groovy shark-friend."  
"I hate you."  
"Hahaha,I know..."_

The memory echoed inside his head, in front if his inner eye, making him smile. It had been winter, after christmas, and Charles had been terrible cold because the heating in his room had been broken, and so he had searched for comfort in Erik's bed. Now, however, Charles would never do something like that again..

Erik walked up the stairs. It was surprisingly cold and dark in the mansion,even the sunlight through the window seemed dim, or maybe it was just Erik's imagination; he could not help it, but the spots of light on the dark wooden floor were everything else than bright and warm.

 _"We used to live here for a couple of years, but Raven and I went to Oxford after..things went bad. I guess I am still not used to the darkness of the hallways. Maybe we should buy new lights, because I can't stand the darkness here, it always makes me think that something is lurking in the shadows."_

And now that Erik was walking down the long hallway, he knew what Charles had meant that day. The corridors were dark, even if the windows were big, and the shadows seemed sinister, as if they were alive. His mind was playing tricks, but that was okay, because who else could play tricks with his mind now, if not he himself?

The metal-tray in the air in front of him swayed slightly, almost spilling the tea over the toast. He had to be careful, the control of his powers had been bad in the last few weeks, and he was sure it was because they were still too tightly bound to his emotion. Between rage and serenity..It was so difficult to find this point now, because the serenity seemed to have gone lost somehow in the last few weeks. Serenity, hah..If there just was a little bit of peace and quiet to gather that serenity back together. The metal-manipulator pressed his lips together until they were a small line.

 _"Don't do that, Erik. It makes you look grim and old, just look at all the wrinkles on your forehead."_

Erik cringed as the amused voice rang through his head, another memory that he had kept safe. He held them safe, his happy memories with Charles, carrying them like a treasure in his mind and heart, the light, separated from all the darkness of the current situation.

His footsteps rang too loud in the empty hallway. The kids were down in the living room, though he was sure that Raven would come upstairs soon. He had told her to take Charles downstairs, because Charles was far too much in his room,alone. He needed someone who talked to him, even if he never talked back, never responding. Though, he was comfortable with Raven's presence; he seemed a bit more relaxed around her, listening to her words with care, being almost interested, and sometimes, sometimes there was a spark in his eyes, and then they gleamed in a bright brilliant blue, and then Erik could almost see a tiny smile.

He also seemed okay with being around Sean, and he seemed to have become accustomed to Hanks presence as well. He never liked the medical inspection, and at the beginning he had struggled a lot, breaking Erik's nose and shattering Hank's glasses as he had tried to flee out of the lab.

Now, however, he just endured it all in silence, sometimes flinching or making small gasps if something did hurt. The bruises had faded, the scratches and scrapes beginning to become scars, and the concussion had vanished, though sudden movements made Charles pale and dizzy. The hand was still in a bad shape, as well as the shin. Charles was not allowed to use his hand, not for now, and he had to use the wheelchair to move around in the mansion, if he moved at all..

Hank had begun to install a elevator, which would make everything a bit easier for Charles. Erik had no clue how long the telepath had to use the wheelchair, but he intensely hoped that Charles could use the crutches soon. That would bring him onto other thoughts, would give him something to do. Maybe that would lift his spirit.

That was another point; Charles mental state. Hank had no clue why Charles would refuse to speak, but it seemed that his mental state was not recovering as well as they had hoped. Maybe he had stopped speaking because it was the only thing that he could control; his voice. He could choose if to speak or not, he could stay silent or talk mentally with them, he could use his powers or refuse to use them. The only thing he had control over...Maybe that was why he was silent, but maybe it was just because there was nothing left to say. It was the fault of those men, Erik was sure.

It is difficult, Hank had said, I think especially because he is a telepath.

Yes, Charles was a telepath, and able to use telekinesis as well, but the man had not used his powers since that night, at least not while he was with the others. Maybe he used them for himself, when he was on a journy with his mind, but never did he touch another mind. The human mind must have scared him off..

Erik did not know how to help Charles but he wished he would know it, because he really wanted to help Charles, wanted to get him better..  
 _  
"It is just a headache Erik. Don't worry, I'll be fine in the afternoon. So, don't make a face and hand me the tea, will you? Thanks."_

It had always been just a headache...

Charles was blocking them, refusing to allow any help, and he would fight them if they would try to take a look inside his head with the help of any machine that Hank had built. He had become withdrawn, vulnerable, fragile... Contact with others made him scared, stressed, and then his breathing would become heavy and shallow because of his injured weak lung.

He had been a strong man once, once he had been the strongest telepath on the earth, once, one month ago..

Now he seemed to be uncomfortable under people, or he just ignored them, being somewhere in his own head, in his own mind, far far away...

The drugs had to be blamed too, because they made him dull and tired, and dizzy, fucking up his mind and leaving him in a mess. But, they calmed him, they made him calm and good, fogging his mind. It was almost manipulation, but they could not allow him to have more breakdowns. That would not be good for him, neither for his mental- and nor for his physical wellbeing. And also not for themself; Charles mental shields were damaged, maybe broken, and maybe that was why he did not use his powers?, and it would cause them all a lot of pain if he lost the control over his powers just because he had a breakdown.

This was not Erik's opinion, but it was logical.

Later, when Charles would be a little bit better and the human thing settle, then they could stop giving him those damn medication. Erik felt as if he was betraying him, betraying Charles, but it was for their all wellbeing. At least that was what Erik tried to tell himself.

It was not easy to deal with Charles, not with him being in this mental position, and it would need a lot of care, patience and tact to somewhat heal and fix what had been broken.

It was hard to get near him, to get close to him. Especially for Erik.

Charles would flinch if Erik entered a room, he would back away if Erik tried to touch him, and he would shiver badly if Erik touch him just slightly. Every fibre of his being would be screaming at Erik then, telling him to leave, telling him to go away, panic and fear in every movement.

It had to be his appearance; his voice was low, he was tall, and, above all, he was a man. Charles was not afraid of Raven, because she was his sister, and he was okay with the blue leonine boy, as well with the red-haired teen who had softer features than Alex. Alex and Erik were avoided by Charles, and he would not look them in the eyes.

 _"I do love you, Erik Lehnsherr, and I don't care what others might think!"_ Erik's heart had fluttered as he heard those words, and he had been sure that he was the luckiest man on earth. Now, however, those words made him sad, his heart aching in bitter realization; Charles would likely never say those words again. Maybe,some day, he would speak again, and maybe, someday, he would be able to let Erik near himself again.

It will be getting better, Hank had said, don't worry. Some day it will get better...

Erik really really hoped it would get better, because his heart was bleeding, with every day. It was his love that he saw falling apart...

Erik tried to hope, but the darkness of his thoughts and the dark reality tought him better; there was no place for hope. He had to do something, not just simply hoping that everything would get better, no, he had to DO something to make it getting better. For the mutants, for them, and above all, for Charles.

Because, Charles deserved to heal. At least that he deserved..

Erik stopped in front of the door; he stood there for several minutes, just staring at the door, as he remembered that he tea would get cold. The metal-bender opened the door with a flick of his wrist, the tray floating in front of him through the air.

Charles was sitting in the wheelchair, his gaze directed outside the window, his chin propped on the back of his left hand, the arms placed on the windowsill. The sunlight against his skin made him even paler.

"Hello Charles." Erik greeted him calmly, walking up to Charles while the door closed itself. Charles did not react, but Erik had not expected anything else; it was always the same, day for day for day. It was frustrating. It didn't made him angry, just really sad. And tired. "Here is your breakfast, I hope you will eat it today."

Sometimes he did that as well, refusing to eat. Yesterday he hadn't ate anything, and had been really ill-looking. Today it seemed a bit better. Yes, there were the worse days, and the bad days. Never the really good days, though.

Erik placed the tray on the desk; papers and pencils lay there, the same way they had been lying one month ago. His gaze wandered over the unwritten paper, then back to Charles, who still looked out of the window. He wasn't looking at anything, Erik realized; he was inside his own world again.

What had destroyed him the most?

The fact that humans were evil? The fact that they did hate mutants? The fact that he had been raped? The fact that his whole dream had been just that; a dream?

Erik did not know, and he would probably never know what had destroyed Charles Xavier, not in a particular way, but he knew what had caused all this to happen; humans. Those damn humans!

Charles flinched, and Erik realised that the metal in the room had been humming. Charles must have sensed his anger, because the body of the telepath tensed, his unfocused eyes directed downwards at the windowsill.

"I am sorry, Charles. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just..somewhere else with my mind." Erik apologized quietly. His voice was smooth,always smooth and warm, as if to soothe Charles. As if Charles was a scared kid, a spooked horse...

A reproachful meow could be heard, and Erik arched and eyebrow as he saw the black bundle of fur on Charles lap. Two greenish eyes looked at him. Erik smiled as he saw the cat "So, here she is. Raven has been wondering where she might could be."

The cat, Erik could not remember its name, had been found by Sean, somewhere back in november, as the days were growing colder.

First Charles hadn't been all too eager to keep the cat in the mansion, but the kids had been able to coax him. Now it was the best friend of Charles, always at his side, a black and white bundle of fur with amazingly green eyes.

The cat had never liked Erik, and in return, Erik never liked it much. He always had the feeling it looked at him with dislike in its green eyes, as if it knew something that Erik didn't.. Of course, that was ridiculous; it was just a cat, what would it know about Erik?

 _"Look Erik, I think she likes you."  
"Oh, no, it doesn't. Look at its evil eyes, I think it's going to kill me once I am asleep."  
"Oh, c'mon. The worst thing that could happen is that your face gets scratched."  
"See. I like my face, so the cat stays out of this room." In the end, Erik had always woken up with the cat sleeping on Charles' legs._

Cat began to purr as Charles absently scratched it behind its ear. All the while, it was watching Erik with knowing eyes. "Charles, dear, Raven will come soon, then you can go outside with her for a while..."

Charles eyes, which had been on the cat, looked up to Erik; they were still clouded, half-lidded, but Raven's name had brought him back.

Erik sighed as he crouched down in front of the wheelchair. Charles flinched as he laid his hands on the knees of the telepath, but he would not fight him. Charles' body was stiff as he looked at the hands on his knees. The cat hissed, its paw brushed over Erik's hand, a warning sign, but Erik ignored it. "I am going out today. I don't know when I will be back."

Charles was silent, his left hand patting the cat in his lap, while the right hand lay unmoving on the arm of his wheelchair. It was still bandaged. Erik noticed the M above Charles' eyes, from the angle he sat it was very well to be seen, and his stomach turned up side down. It always did when he saw it. It was reminding him of other things...

He stood up, a small smile on his lips. He always smiled for Charles, and only for Charles. "I hope you have a nice day today. " He would like to talk with him, having a real conversation with him; he would love to hear his voice again. The situations between them were awkward now, Erik never knew what to say. There was a hidden tension, the connection between their minds was missing.

Erik would like to touch his hand, squeezing it slightly, but he was not sure how Charles would react. And the cat was watching him with wary eyes..

So he nodded towards Charles, who had his eyes on the cat in his lap, and left the room.

Erik walked down the hallway as he met Raven; the blue girl was on her way to Charles, probably to ensure that he ate his breakfast. She smiled at him, but he did not smile back, he just gave her a nod. "Take him outdoors today. The weather is good, and the sunlight will do him good."

The small smile of the girl faded, her eyes became stern and she nodded. "I had intended to do that anyway."

She was a strong girl, stronger than someone would might believe. She stayed calm, all the month she had looked after Charles, had watched over him with a care that only a sister could give a brother. Erik knew that she was as sad and desperate as he himself was, but she wouldn't show it, just like him. No one did show what was going on inside them.

"Make sure that he doesn't watch TV today. I don't think he should see it."

"So, you are going to do it..." she mumbled, her yellow eyes eyeing him carefully. Erik nodded, and she sighed "I don't know if that is a good idea Erik."

Erik's lips became a thin line as he answered with a steady voice "You don't have to be sure about it."

The girl furrowed her brow, and he was sure she had a word of protest on her lips, but she swallowed it down. Good girl, he wouldn't want to start a discussion about his plans. He had thought about this, he had planned this, he would do it.

"He never does watch TV." she then said, her voice sounding absent as her gaze wandered out of the big window to their side. "I know." Erik answered calmly. They wouldn't let him watch the news. The topic about humans and mutants was everywhere now, always present. They couldn't let him see the madness of the humans, not now. Maybe he would help them, when he felt better. Maybe he would be at Erik's side to rule the world one day. Maybe Erik was just megalomaniac. Though, he would do it, he would lead the mutants against the humans, he would DO something. Yes, some would call it megalomania, he called it future.

They stayed there for a moment, their gaze directed outside the window. A small bird was sitting in the tree in front of the window, chirping.

He began to continue his walk down the hallway, and Raven turned around to watch him going. "Please be careful, Erik."

He chuckled dryly as he continued to walk down the corridor. "Oh, don't worry, Mystique. They are humans, they are not able to harm me with their toy guns."

She knew he was right, and that was why she stayed quiet. He could hear her walking down the hallway, a door was opened and a cheerfull voice filled the air. "Hello Charlie. How're you doing? You look better today, have you slept well?"

She was a good actor.

Erik opened the door to his room and closed it quietly. He stood there, taking in the scent of fresh bed linen and old wood. The window was open, and the smell of spring was notable; the smell of flowers and fresh air.

It could have been a nice day, under other circumstances.

He walked over to the bed; his outift was placed on the bed, his magenta cotton jacket, the dark trousers and the dark purple cape, and for a moment he asked himself if this was ridiculous, insane.

 _"Everyone is a bit insane. You, me, the rest of the world. Without insanity, a lot of things wouldn't have happened."  
"I wouldn't call it insanity then, I would call it courage."  
"Courage?...Hm..I think courage is what is needed to be a little bit insane."  
"But, how can I tell that I am just a bit insane? How do I know that I am not completly mad?"  
"...You will never know that, Erik. No one does. Who can tell what insanity is? Maybe we both are already insane without knowing it?"  
_  
Yes, maybe he was already insane..

Erik began to change his outfit, almost taking too much time with putting on his new clothes. Then he was ready, fully clothed in his new outfit, and he knew that there would be no going back if he would do what he was about to do.

He knew that he was probably about to start a war.

He looked down on the cotten sleeves of his magenta jacket.

Why magenta?

 _"Here, this is for you."  
"...A...flower?"  
"Yes?"  
"..Why would you give me a flower?"  
"Oh, just because. It's from the yard. I thought I'll bring you one, so you're feeling better."  
"...I don't like the color..."  
"It's magenta."  
"I still don't like it."  
"Are you feeling better at least?.."  
"...Yes. Yes I think I do." _He had been ill, shortly after they had arrived the mansion; it had probably been the cold weather in Russia which had brought him a cold. Erik had been doomed to stay in bed. He could still remember that silly smile that Charles had worn as he had handed him the flower.

Maybe that was why.

Erik's gaze turned to the nightstand, and he mentally sighed. With slow steps he walked to the small table, his hands touching the cool metal of the helmet. It would not be necessary to wear it, it was for no use at the moment, but better safe than sorry. The helmet was colored magenta now, magenta and purple.

He felt like a boy who was playing superhero, or maybe he wasn't even the hero, maybe he was the villian; for the humans he was, but not for the mutants.

He was going to save them, his kind.

Erik placed the helmet upon his head, and as he raised his head and turned around he was met by the cold and stern gaze of the man that called himself Erik Lehnsherr.

Once he had been Max Eisenhard.

Then he became Erik Lehnsherr.

Once he had been Erik Lehnsherr.

Now he was Magneto.

Erik eyed his mirror image, asking himself if he was doing the right thing, then he walked to the door and opened it with a flick of his wrist;

Yes, they should face their new enemy.

The world should know of Magneto.


	7. The Speaker and The Listener

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lines at the beginning are taken from a German children's song, named 'Ein Männlein steht im Walde'. You can find the translation below, as well as some notes.

_"Ein Männlein steht im Walde ganz still und stumm._

 _Es hat von lauter Purpur ein Mäntlein um._

 _Sagt, wer mag das Männlein sein,_

 _das da steht im Wald allein,_

 _mit dem purpurroten Mäntelein?"_

 **Chapter 6**

His footsteps echoed through the room as he walked towards the long platform. He could hear the heavy breaths of the men on the ground, could almost taste their fear as he walked past them. No one dared to move. It was dark here, only the podium was lit up by the spotlight above.

 _You are right to fear me_ , his mind snarled at them. _Be lucky that I've decided not to kill you, even if you deserve it._

This was a TV-station, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It would take the humans some time to send their men here, and Magneto would have enough time; enough time to talk.

Magneto walked up the small stairs, his steel-boots clanking with every step that he took on the podium. _A shame that I had no lectern, it would give me a more powerfull appearance_. He walked along the long desk, slowly, as if he had all time of the world, then he sat down on one of those comfortable-looking chairs behind the blue desk. Taking a deep breath through his nose he leaned his elbows on the table, his hands neatly folded underneath his chin as his gaze turned to the small lense of the camera, which stood in front him in the darkness.

They were live on TV, he knew that several people had to watch him, being confused, not understanding what was going on. The background looked ridiculous; silhouettes of skyscrapers against a dark red sky. He silently asked himself how he had to look like; a disguised madman clad in magenta and purple who just came from the next best superhero costume Party? Maybe something like that. The background didn't help much; in fact he felt like a clown in a kids-show. At the moment he did not care about that little problem.

He knew that he looked grim, dangerous, his eyes nearly hidden in the shadows of his helmets, gleaming like two silver coins in the garish light of the spotlights. Maybe he should have left the cape at the mansion, it soon would be really hot under the lights...  
 _  
"You've once told me that you know everything about me. But, in return I know nothing about you..."_

He closed his eyes briefly , taking another deep breath through his nose, then he opened his eyes again. The look in his eyes was stern, deadly serious, and cold like metal. He could dimly see the reflection of himself in the lense of the camera, but the thing was too far away to see his reflection well.

 _"You want to know something about me? Haha, but you do know a lot already."_

He licked over his lips, like Charles had always used to do when he was nervous, then they turned up into a smile; a cold smile that looked more mechanically than real. It was a forced smile, nothing more, nothing less. Though, he really did not care; he was not here to entertain those people at the other end of the screen, he was not here to look friendly or anything like that. He was here because it was his duty, because he had to be here. Someone had to do what he did now. Someone had to make the first step.

 _"I just think it would be fair."_

"A nicely welcome to all of you out there." He began, his voice dripping with scorn. "I hope you all are well placed in front of your lovely television and I hope, you have some time to listen to what I have to say, because what I will say is important for all of you-" he paused for mere seconds, then he added with a low voice "Important for mutants, and humans."  
 _  
"Hahaha, okay, okay, I guess you are right."_

He leaned forward, his smile had faded all the while ago; he was serious now, more than serious. "I think I should introduce myself; my name is Magneto, and I am a mutant." Faint applause was heard in the back of his head, almost mockingly as if to say;  
 _yes, you are a mutant, mutant and proud, right? That's what you want to show them, it's all about being too proud.._

 _"My name is Charles Francis Xavier, and I am a telepath."_

Magneto hissed slightly as the voice rang through his head; he was somewhere else with his mind again, always. It was always Charles who had distracted him, always Charles who had stopped him from doing something incredible stupid, always Charles who had kept him from leaving...

Well, Charles was not here now, wasn't he?

The metal-bender continued with his calm voice, "I think you all know about mutants. This topic isn't quite avoidable, isn't it? All your human politicans talk about us as if we were...scum, the children of the devil..." his eyes narrowed "That was what you have said Mr. Stryker, wasn't it?" He sighed dramatically and leaned back, his eyes never leaving the black lense. "You all talk nonsense about us. It's not really polite, I have to say. **WE** "- he used a heavy emphasis on this word, "- tried to be polite. Oh, yes, we did. But-" he sighed again, a gesture to show them how disappointed he was of those stupid little humans who were acting like children in a fight about candy. Though, this time it was not about candy, this time it was about the lifes of millions of people, mutants...

 _"I was born in New York City. My family moved from England to Westchester, where I grew up till I was eighteen."_

"I know a man who has tried to lead our races together in a peacefull manner. But-" he raised the index-finger of his leather-clad left hand "- you did not listen to him. In fact, you laughed at him. In fact-" he leaned forward again, his eyes gleaming with hate and fury that he tried to supress. Calm, I needed to be calm for this...  
"In fact you've nearly killed him. Oh yes-" he snorted "- you were trying to kill the man that could have brought us all peace. **YOU** -" he said with raised voice, his hands comming down on the table with a loud thud. "You are the reason for all this! Maybe we could have settled things quietly and in a polite kind of way, but I am not sorry to tell you that you've missed the chance, because that only shows your true intention; eradication!"

 _"My birthday is the thirteenth of October, and I am almost twenty-eight years old."_

He took in a deep breath; he felt angry, but his voice was more steady than he had expected it to be. "I know where this will lead, where this **could** lead, but I will prevent it. I, Magneto, speak to you mutants, my brothers and sisters; you shall not hide. It's their time to be afraid of us, we have no reason to fear someone as primitive as the human being." He straightened, his hands pressed against the plastic table. It was warm in here, his hair under the helmet stuck to his head . "Brothers and sisters, be proud of what you are! Be proud of **who** you are! You are special, you are the new kind of evolution and not any scum or the offspring of the devil."

 _"I've studied genetics and biophysics at the university of Oxford. I've become a professor this year."_

"It is our time to raise up! It's time to fight back against the injustice of those homosapiens!"

 _"I like tea, and cheddar, my favourite color is blue and I love to play chess."_

Magneto balled his hands into fists, the shadows under his eyes dark. He could feel every metal object in this room, could feel the magnetic fields, could hear the soft humming of the metal above his head, could almost taste the fear of the men who lay on the dirty ground...He could feel their blood running through their veins...

 _"And there is one thing..."_

" **We** won't be prisoners, we won't be slaves of the human race! **We** shall rise up to rule, **WE** will be the ones who have the control!" He stood up from his chair, his hands raised with the palms upwards, standing there like a god who was talking to his subjects. No, subjects was not quite the right word. _Ally, maybe, or ...family..._

 _"..that I desperately wish for.."_

"And that is why I see no other option..."

 _"I wish for.."_

"The only option left, is.."

 _"Peace."_

"War."

 _War_...He had enough of war. It pained him to think of all the people that would die, but it was necessary. _Necessary to achive freedom_ , he thought bitterly.

He had seen so many people die, had seen so many dead bodies... _And I could not have help them._

But this time he would help, this time he would DO something, this time he would make everything right.

If that meant he had to kill, then he would kill.

If it meant he had to start a war, he would start a war.

This time he would do everything to prevent an eradication, to prevent pain and sadness... Many mutants would probably die in a war against the humans, but it was for their freedom. It was for their kind. It is necessary.

 _How does it feel, to lead people into their death?_

No, he would not lead them into death! He would lead them into a better future!

There would always be sacrifices, there would always be someone who had to sacrifice himself for the wellbeing of others. You always have to give something if you want something, and the price for freedom was always the death of someone. There was never a solution for a serious problem without hurting someone.

Magneto smiled, his face an emotionless mask as he placed his right hand above his heart. "I know that you might think that I am a madman. I can't blame you, but you will see that I am right." He raised his voice again; his voice which was as cool as his face but the hint of pure hate could be heard very well. He did hate does homosapiens, he really did hate them. And, a part of him was not afraid to start a war. A part of him wanted to start a war, to get rid of the human being, finally...But another part inside of him, a very small part, warned him, warned him of becomming like he had never want to become; like them.

 _No!_ , he snarled to himself, no, _I will never be like them!_

What differentiated him from them?

Was he any better than them?

 _Maybe not_ , he thought cooly, _but do I have to be better than them?_  
 _  
Fight fire with fire.._.

"They have done it once before, my dear friends, they will do it again. They fear what they don't know. They fear **us** , they hate **us** , they want to tame and slaughter **us**. My dear brothers and sisters, **we** are not the animals; the homosapien is the animal. " Magneto's smile became kind. " **We** are the future."

Yes, THEY were the future, THEY were the new kind of evolution!  
 _  
We will rule this world, to make it to a better place.. for US!_

He took a deep breath, his smile fading, replaced by the serious face that he would become so used to. "Peace was never an option, I fear."

And, it was true, peace was just an illusion, something that had been created by people who could not face the truth; there would always be hate. There would always be war. There was nothing such as peace, there had never been anything close to peace. Was there acceptance? No, mutants were not accepted. Tolerated? Neither.

 _Feared, hated,despised._.. He had grown so used to it.

All his life, all the entire time...There had never been something like peace. There had never been something like acceptance. There was just hate. Sometimes he found himself asking why; why him? Why his people, why his kind, why his race, why his religion, why his family, why his blood, why? WHAT did they hate?

They just need an enemy, they always need an enemy...To show their strength. It made him laugh inwardly. This is so ridiculous.

THEY were ridiculous...

"I can't understand the hate of the human being..." He continued, slowly, almost thoughtfully. "I am no god, neither am I a man of god. Gott ist tot, don't you think, Mr. Stryker? You put everything under the will of god, but in fact these are all your own thoughts. All the doings are the doings of the human race, there is no apology for what they have done. There will be no apology for what they are **about** to do and neither will there be an apology for what I will do. I am not sorry for saying what every mutant must think. I am not sorry for fighting for my freedom - **OUR** freedom." He closed his eyes, the soft humming of the spotlight calmed him down. In fact, he was calm now.

Yes, he was calm again, because he had realized that he was doing the right thing.

"Brothers and sisters, women and men, _fight_ for your freedom. **Fight** for our future. **Fight** for yourself. This is our time." He opened his eyes again. "This is our life, and no one can take it from our hands."

He reached out with his left hand, offering them his hand, a self-confident smile on his lips. "Fight with me, brothers and sisters, for a better future. For our future."

He would not do nothing, he would not watch the humans how they imprisoned his kind, he would not smell burned flesh and he would not hear the desperate screams of families that were torn apart.

He would prevent it.

This time he would prevent it.  
 _  
"And, there is a man that I am in love with."_

"My name is Magneto, and I will fight the humans."

 _"His name is Erik Lehnsherr."_

"I will have no mercy."

 _"He is kind-hearted, but would never admit or show it."_

"I won't regret a thing."

 _"And one day..."_

"Because I am right."  
 _  
"..he will show his true self to the world."_

...

The colors around him were bright, brighter than they should be; he loved their brightness, it was so much warmer than the darkness outside. The sun was shining, it was warm, but he knew that it wasn't really warm here; he just felt no coldness.

He stood at the pond, looking down on the water which looked like liquid diamond. He had seen that somewhere before, half a year ago, but he could not quite remember where...

They were outside the mansion, near the pond. The surroundings looked like drawn with watercolors, the rays of sun like golden veils of light.

Like a dream.

A loud meow was heard, something snaked around his legs, purring. A smile crossed to his lips as he looked down to the black cat. The cat gave him a questioning gaze, its green eyes blinking once, twice, then it continued to rub its head against his leg.

He sighed, bending down to take the black furball into his arms. The cat purred happily, its eyes closed.

 _You are such a princess, aren't you?_ Sharon's reply was a warm purr and her pink tongue darted out to lick over his right hand. It made him smile. He had named the cat after his dear mother, though, he was not quite sure why..

Sharon hadn't been a bad woman... _Just an awful mothe_ r, he added thoughtfully. Charles had never blamed her for anything; the society had made her cold and inapproachable. _And Kurt had made it even worse._

He sighed as he raised his head to look back at the pond. He loved this place. It was always so peacefull..

"Charles, do you want to go back?" A voice rang through the air, bodyless so it seemed.

Charles turned around to his sister, her astral form a pulsing blue; she looked like a human shape made of blue glas, a mixture of yellow and light green smoke swirling inside her frame. If he would take a closer look he would see her thoughts, her memories inside the smoke, like a movie; it was her mind. This was not the real world, he was aware of that; this was a mental level, an astral plane. He could see her mind, and he could take a closer look inside, could fling himself through the glass into the smoke, but he would not; he was not here to take a look inside her mind.

She was not aware of her mental self, neither all the others. _Other telepaths, maybe. And animals, at least cats._

Cats were able to live in all levels at the same time. This was the first mental level, the first area which looked a lot like the normal world 'outside'. It was not his mind, no, his mind was inside his head; this here was one of the layers of the mental plane, almost a whole new world you could say, a world built on the real world. He was not sure how many layers were there, he had never taken the step over the next border; it would be dangerous, he could lose himself. It would swallow him, such out his mental energy; it would kill him. That was why he stayed in the first plane, the layer which had the closest connection to the real world. Here he could hear what others said, hear he could see their minds, their mental selves..Somewhere in the next planes there had to be other minds, the minds of dead people, maybe. Charles could feel their presence like an ever present tingling inside his head, but he never reached for them; they would pull him further away, further than he already was.

"Charles?"

Oh, he should go back, otherwise Raven would be worried. He could see that she already was, because the smoke inside her astral form turned into a brighter shade of yellow.

But, he did not want to go back into the real world, it was so much nicer here..

He felt dazed, not only in the real world but also here; it was weird, but thinking was so much harder than it had been before...It was as if there was something over his thoughts, something like fog, something that made everything blurry...

He did not want to go back, then he would have to see their sad faces...

 _Why are they sad? There is nothing to be sad about.._

"Charles, are you alright? Do you want to go back in? I think we go back in, alright? Maybe you can eat something, hm? Or, do you want a tea?"

Charles looked down; Sharon blinked, her green eyes staring up at him. I have to go back, right? He smiled sadly as he placed the cat back down onto the grassy ground, then he closed his eyes.

 _I don't want to drink tea._

A slight pull went through his astral form as he slowly crossed the white line which symbolized the transition of the planes, then he felt a soft tingling, and as he opened his eyes he was back in the wheelchair with Raven to his side. It was always a weird feeling to go back into his real body; his mental body felt light, the pain was just a dull ache in the back of his mind and he could **walk**. Now, however, his head did hurt, as well as his heart. Everything did hurt, but it was just a dull pain. Everything was dull, even the colors, as if it was far far away, as if it was a dream, as if a gray vail lay over the world, as if reality was a dream. It felt wrong, and he knew that it was wrong, but he could not help it; it was hard to think, it was hard to feel...He felt so numb.

Raven smiled as she noticed that he was back with her. She said nothing as she walked behind him to push his wheelchair.

It was warm today, sunny, and he could hear the birds in the trees. Normally it would have made him smile, but now he did not really feel like smiling. There was... a coldness inside and...somehow it did not seem to go away. The rays of sun touched his skin, but not his heart.

Raven talked to him; she always did talk him, and mostly it was something about their daily life. She never talked about serious things. _Or about Erik._

Charles did not blame her. He just listened.

Her voice was a pleasant background mumbling, and it lulled him. She sat often at his side, in the evenings when he could not sleep, and would read him books, as if he was a small child. He did not care; he loved her voice, and her mere presence calmed him. Though, sleep never came easily, and it was never pleasant if sleep came... _Never._

They would haunt him, he would see it all again, feel it again...

He knew that his sister was sad; he could feel it, the sadness, always wafting around her when she was with him. It was weird, to be the reason for her sadness without being able to change it. _Well, maybe I would able to change it, but I have no clue how_... And, at the moment, Charles had no strange to change anything. He felt tired, every day, and every day was the same.

Sometimes she was close to tears, but she was a strong girl, she never cried. It would have made him proud, if he would actually care. But, he did not care, not anymore. At the moment he felt so dizzy...It was so exhausting to think too much, to care...

He could not tell if it had been different once before, if he had been different, if he had cared for someone, loved someone...He was not sure if he did love now, but he knew that he liked Raven, a lot.

Everything was so blurry when he looked back at his past. He could remember his childhood, very well, but the last few month were a blur...Sometimes he did remember things, and sometimes he was aware of his current situations, and then he asked himself; what am I doing? What the hell is wrong with me? But he never had an answer to this questions, and then the fog took over again, and everything was blurry.

Maybe it was his own mind, maybe the medications, he did not know.

He did not care.

Because, maybe it was better how it was.

But, how could he tell, if he did not know how it could be? He just knew that there was a lot of pain, and there would be even more pain if his mind was clear.

And so he let his brain be fogged.

 _Am I a coward? Am I fragile, vulnerable, an idiot?_

A part of Charles did hate himself.

The other part did not care.

Charles did not know why he was how he was now, though his mind told him that it had to be the trauma, maybe even a mini-psychosis. He had heard Hank talking about this topic as he and Erik both had thought he was not listening.

He always did listen, he just never gave a reply.

He had also hear them talking about the possibility of a post traumatic stress disorder and even a complex post traumatic stress disorder, but Charles had no clue what that meant.

 _-Changes in attention and consciousness_

 _-Changes in self-perception_

 _-Changes in relationships with others, including isolation, also distrust_

 _-Changes in attitudes._

 _\- A loss of sustaining faith or a sense of hopelessness and despair._

Those were just some things that Hank had mentioned.

His mind knew that there were similarities, but he closed his ear to his inner voice; he did not want to know if he was insane or not - if he was ill or not. But, how could he tell if he was insane, ill, or not? How could he tell that he had changed if he felt no difference? How could he tell if he was not himself anymore, if he could not even remember how he had been before? How could he tell that anything, if he could not take a clear thought?  
 _  
How could it have come to this?_

Charles shuddered as he remembered how exactly it had come to this, who did this to him, and he gripped the arm of his wheelchair with a tight grip. Just his left hand, because he could barely move his right hand. He was sure he could see them, could hear their laughter, could smell the blood and suddenly he felt panic, and not only that; he felt ashamed; he was ashamed that he did not stop them, that he had not been able to stop them.

He had been too weak, and he wished.. he wished he had been stronger. He wished he had stopped them. He could have stopped them, he was sure, but...He had wanted to give them a chance, and in the end...in the end it had brought him nothing but pain...Had he been too naive?

 _It was my own fault, wasn't it? All of this.._

Erik had warned him, right? Where was Erik now?

He wished he would be here. He wished, he had been there..

It was weird, because, sometimes he felt totally numb, not caring about anything, and other times he felt like breaking together, like crying forever about everything. Sometimes he missed the closeness of others around himself, and sometimes he did hate everyone around himself, was afraid of them...And sometimes he wished that there would be someone, someone who could help him out of all this misery.

And sometimes he felt like hiding under his blanket, hiding from the world outside, because it was a cruel world outside there..

It was so hard to let someone near himself, and he did not know why. It was just... if someone touched him then...

"Charles?" Raven's worried voice asked, and suddenly he realized that they were back in the mansion; they were in the entrance hall, Raven crouching in front of his wheelchair, eyeing him with concern in her yellow eyes. "Are you..okay?"

Sharon meowed sadly.

Nothing was okay.

Charles just nodded.

Sharon gave him a reproachful glance and he patted her shiny black fur as his lips turned into a breath of a smile; a sad smile.

 _It's alright, dear...Don't be angry._

 _Please,.._

 _...just..._

 _..don't be angry at me..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> "A little man stands in the forest, very quiet and silently
> 
> He wears around a sheer purple little cloak.
> 
> Say, who can be the little man,
> 
> Who stands in the forest alone,
> 
> With the purple little cloak? "
> 
> (A little man stands in the forest, children's song)
> 
> Gott ist tot: God is death ( You might know that sentence as "the death of god", but Magneto means it in another way, I guess, not quite like Nietzsche^^" Well, maybe in a kind of way... whatever xD)
> 
> Note: Oh my, I did some research for mental disorders and possible mental consequences of the happenings, stuff like that, and I've read so much wikipedia stuff xD It was very interesting though..  
> I always do love to make research for my fanfics, cause I want to make them as real as possible, though, I think the term posttraumatic stress disorder was found later than in the sixties ^^" However, if you want to learn more about it, you have to read the article on wikipedia or somewhere else xD  
> I hope I did everything right, m not a doctor, as you know.. xD
> 
> Also I don't know when Charles' birthday is. I just took a date xD  
> And I changed some things about his past, though, it's not that much xD


	8. Darkness

_I have never told him that I do love him.  
Somehow I have always thought he would know it anyway._

 _'He is a telepath,' I have thought to myself, 'He surely knows it already.'  
And of course he has KNOWN it - and I hope he still DOES know it - though I think he has always wanted to hear the words leaving my mouth._

 _I think I've been too afraid.  
I think I should have told him._

 _Does he think I am too coldhearted?_

 _No..  
Surely not.  
Though, I am not sure anymore._

 _He has changed, and I am changing.  
Somehow I have the feeling we are drifting apart._

 _I still love him._

 _I think I always will.  
_  
 **Chapter 7  
**  
Charles did not want to go to Hank, because Hank would want him to talk.

He would not talk.

He did not want to.

He could not.

Raven smiled as she pushed his wheelchair along the corridor, her soft voice echoing through the sunlit hallway, "Maybe you want to talk to him today?" The dark wooden floor was melting with the shadows, it was hard to tell where the wall began and the floor ended. If just the curtains were not such a dark green, maybe then it would be a warmer place. "I bet you will feel better afterwards."

He doubted it.

The voice of his sister was always soothingly, and Charles had the feeling she feared to break him if she talked too loudly. _Oh dear_ , he thought to himself, _why would she think something like that?_ He was already broken, and it was not her fault. Though, he was glad that she cared; somehow it made him feel a bit better. Ah, yes, a bit better, maybe, but he still could not stop to hate the fact that he was weak. Was he selfish for acting the way he was acting? Maybe...

There were so many emotions running through his head, so many things, but it was hard to put them in place.

Charles' left hand was patting Sharon, who purred happily while she was rubbing her small head against his stomach; her presence was warm, always, and she was the only one he would let near himself.

 _Probably because she is an animal_ , he mused. A part of Charles always tried to analyse the symptoms of his illness, but this part was somewhere in the back of his mind, burried deep under the feelings of self-doubt, sorrow, self-disgust, distress and all the other bad emotions and self-reproach.

 _I am a wreck, am I?_ , he thought to himself, and he knew his eyes had to look incredible sad. At least Raven could not see them, did not have to see them... He had to bother them, all of them, annoying them with his sadness and the dull look in his eyes... Once he had been such a self-confident man, with a dream and hopes and the wish to open a school one day, to teach mutant children... But, now he was of no use, not anymore, and that fact gnawed at him, was eating him from the inside until barely any self-confidence was left.

It was part of his illness, but Charles was not aware of this fact. Actually he was not aware of a lot of things, such as that he was not useless and that there was no need for him to feel ashamed or weak; it was not his fault.

But he did not realize it; his mind was too tired, too dazed. He did not see and he did not listen because he closed his eyes and ears to the world outside; it was so much easier to live in his own world where everything was alright, where he could pretend that everything still was alright - that HE was alright...

It is not easy to heal; it is easier to give up.

Charles would have never thought that one day he would be at a point where he pondered over giving up.

Maybe he had already given up.

He could not tell.

He had no clue.

Charles was isolating himself because that was the only thing he was capable to do to feel safe; he did not want to be near anyone, he did want to be alone because he could not bear to be under people. He did not want to FEEL what they felt, did not want to hear their thoughts, did not want to see their sad faces...but at the same time he felt so unbearable lonely...

He was afraid to get hurt again.

He did not want to get hurt again.

And so Charles was hiding inside... The warmth of his mind and the brightness of the astral plane were a welcome relief of the dull daily life in the mansion; he did not feel all too drugged and sluggish when he was in his mental form, then he felt ...better, as if he belonged there...

At least he had his cat, his Sharon; she would always be at his side, she would never leave him, and she would never hurt him... She gave him something to hold on to; her mere presence was enough to make him smile, even if only for mere seconds.

They were at the lab door, _already?_ , and Raven was about to opened the door as Alex came down the hallway; the blonde boy had a stern expression on his face, his lips pressed into a thin line as he walked up to Raven; Sean followed him, his walk a bit slower and his face more worried than grim or stern. _Something must be going on_... _Something must have happened._

Charles could feel Alex anger, like a soft tugging at the edge of his mind, but he could also feel ... _fear?_ He had to raise his mental shields higher, otherwise their emotions would crush him. _But_ , he thought tiredly, _does it even matter?_

So he listened quietly, his hand in Sharon's fur while his eyes were fixed on his lap. The cat was all ears.

"Raven." Alex greeted her as he stopped in front of Raven and Charles. Raven gave her brother a quick glance, then she met the serious gaze of the blonde boy. Sean joined them quietly; his usually so bright face seemed pale and as Charles looked up he could clearly see the fear in the green eyes.

"What's the matter?" The shapeshifter asked with a polite but strained voice; she also knew that something was going on, but it seemed that she did not want to speak about it in Charles' presence.

"There's somethin you should see." Alex said, carefully, his eyes darting to Charles and back to Raven. Charles tensed slightly, his hand tugging Sharon's fur . The cat meowed indignantly.

Raven's yellow eyes wandered to the cat, who stared up to Raven with wide green eyes. "What is it?" she asked, her voice low. As if he would not hear her when she spoke lower...

There was tension in the air, and Charles grew uncomfortable.

Alex sighed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his gaze raised; you could think he was arrogant but Charles knew that the boy was only trying to hide his nervousness. "Not here." And the unspoken sentence ' he would hear it' lingered in the air.

Raven rubbed her blue hands, nervously wringing them as she thought about Alex' words; almost half a year ago she had worn clothes and a mask out of skin and blonde hair, but now she was all her self, naked and blue with red hair and yellow eyes. She gave the blonde boy a stern glance, something that should probably tell him that she would not leave Charles' side now, but Alex' eyes narrowed dangerously. "Raven..."

"It does not take long." Sean suddenly cheeped; his usually oh so loud voice was surprisingly low. Raven furrowed her brow, thinking, then she nodded slowly "Okay." she answered calmly "I'll take Charles to Hank. You'll wait here?"

The boys nodded and Raven opened the lab door. Charles did not turn his head around to look at their faces, but he could still feel the tension in the air. He was glad that they had left them now.

The lab was as white as ever, the garish light of the light tubes illuminating the room in a bright white light; it was almost too white, but not uncomfortable to him, at least normally...

Several glass shelves and cabinets stood at the walls, filled with all chemical and medical things you could need as a scientist. The floor was tiled with white tiles; there was no window, because the lab was at the basement of the mansion, near the training bunker.

Charles had been her for a few times, though not quite as much as Hank was here; the blue furred boy almost lived in the lab. Charles had spent most of his childhood in the libary or his own room, and later he had used the labs in Oxford; this here had been the room of his father, and sometimes he had visited him to watch him during his work. Though, he had never been allowed to stay here without anyone to watch over him, and certainly not after his father had died and Kurt had moved in.

The smell of the lab always brought back the memories of his father; he had died as Charles was seven years old. _An accident at work..._ He had never known that his mother was actually able to show emotions, but this day she had cried. Maybe that was why he had tried to avoid the lab for the past few month as they had returned to the mansion, but now there was no way to avoid it. _Medical check ups..._

"Hello Charles." the cheerful voice of Hank rang through the lab and brought Charles back to the present. The blue leonine scientist walked around the paper-littered desk, cleaning his glasses with his white lab coat. "You do look a bit pale today. Do you feel alright?"

Charles gave him a soft nod, causing his wavy hair to fall into his eyes because he had not combed it to the side like he usually had used to do. _Usually_...The word became more and more surreal.

"Listen, Hank." Raven said, pointing with er thumb towards the door where Sean and Alex peered into the lab. "The boys want to show me something, I gotta go but I'll come back later to take Charles upstairs for dinner."

Hank raised one eyebrow, his eyes wandering to the two boys in the doorway. "Okay, alright." He shrugged his shoulders "Oh, and please take the cat, will you? You know.-"

"No animals in the lab, I know." Raven rolled her eyes and Charles felt a twinge in his stomach; he did not want to be without Sharon...

Raven leaned down and carefully took the black cat out of Charles' arms; he almost refused to let her go, almost, but he knew that it would be of no use.. "See you later, Charlie." She smiled kindly down on him, then she left the lab together with Sharon. The cat meowed.

He could follow Raven, could switch to the astral level to take a look at what was bothering the boys, but he was too tired to try anything like that.

He did not care.

There was no curiosity.

All he wanted to do was to go back to bed..

Somehow the lab seemed colder to him.

"Soo..." Hank clapped his hands as the door closed with a soft click, trying to be enthusiastic; Charles knew that he was as concerned as the others, but he always tried not to show it. How kind.

Several minutes later he found himself sitting on the lab table while Hank was examining his shattered leg. Charles stared ahead, his eyes on the shelves behind Hank; through the glass doors of the shelves he could see the red and blue cardboard boxes and the carefully labeled glass vials with the colorful content.

By now he was used to Hank's treatment; Hank was a good boy, he was kind and gentle, always trying to make it as comfortable as possible for him. Sometimes the blue fur tickled him.

Hank had something very kind in his features which made it easy to trust him - at least a bit.

"Does it hurt?" Charles flinched as he heard that sentence and Hank gave him an apologetic smile, his voice full of sympathy. "I am sorry, Charles. Does your leg hurt?"

 _"Does it hurt?" the voice whispered into his ear while he whimpered softly, trying to get away. The wall was cold and hard..._

Charles blinked as the memory faded, shivering slightly as he looked down on his leg as if to think about his answer; in fact he had to think about it because he truly could not say if it did hurt. Well, of course it did hurt, but not quite as much as it did in the beginning.. He pressed his lips together as he remembered HOW much it had hurt.

He nodded.

"A lot?"

A frown, then he shook his head.

Hank seemed relieved as he leaned upwards and pulled Charles' trouser leg down, carefully, so he would not hurt him. "Okay, that is at least something, right?" Charles' gaze flickered from the shelves to Hank, briefly looking him into the eyes, then he nodded again. Hank sighed almost sadly as he eyed Charles carefully. "Do you want to try it today?"

Charles face went blank as he balled his left hand into a fist and shook his head without thinking twice. He meant the talking..He always asked him if he would talk, but he would refuse.  
 _  
"One more word and I gag you." A rough hand against his throat, he could not breath, he could not breath, hecouldnot-_

"Charles?"

 _There was blood in his mouth, blood of the broken nose and the injured lung. He could not breath.._

 _"You hear me? One more pathetic sound and I'll crush your throat."_ His heart began to speed up; he was no longer in the lab, he was pressed against the wall, a rough hand full of blood -his blood -against his throat, and his body did hurt and he could not see straight and everything was blurry, he felt dizzy, trying to breath while he tried to loosen the hand around his throat but they would just laugh and-

"Charles."

Charles jerked away as a furred hand came down to rest on his shoulder; he was in the lab again, breathing heavily, his eyes wide with fear. It had felt so real...

Hank's worried face was in front of his own, yellow eyes eyeing him with an serious expression. Charles wanted to be somewhere else right now,wanted to go back to the astral level, he just had to focus and then...

"Charles, don't leave me again." Hank's voice was warm but stern."I know that you would like to...forget all those things. It surely is easier to hide in your mind, but you have to go through this; it is a part of the recovery and-"

Charles turned his head to the side, his eyes closed while his lips were a thin white line. _I am not listening to you,lalalalala..._

Hank sighed heavily as he leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Charles..I know this is not easy, but it could be easier if you would cooperate with me...Please, just trust me and try to stay here with me...We can do it."

And Charles wanted to believe him, he really did want to, and he really did try to trust him, he really did, but it was so difficult and he was so tired of trying.. The astral plane was calling.. Charles opened his eyes, pouting while he slowly turned his head towards Hank.

He had a headache.

"How is the breathing? Does it still trouble you?" Hank asked suddenly. He seemed to understand that Charles was not ready yet.

A nod.

Hank hummed, seeming thoughtfully. "Well, that is no surprise..." He smiled encouragingly while he carefully took Charles' bandaged right hand into his paw. "What is with your hand? Does it hurt less?"

Charles shook his head as his eyes turned to the bandaged hand in Hank's paw. Was this really his own hand? If he would try to move a finger, would the finger move?

"Are you able to move the fingers?" the young scientist asked. Charles tilted his head while he looked at his hand. He tried to move them, his fingers, and pain shot through his palm straight to his arm. He winced slightly and was about to take his hand away, but Hank held it. "It still does hurt?"

Charles nodded, looking a bit frustrated as his gaze turned to the tiled floor. Hank began to talk about Charles' hand and his shin, about how the ribs healed well and other things, but Charles was hardly listening; his eyes were fixed on the white floor, following the reflections of the light against the glass and the tiles. It looked interesting.

Charles could not tell how long the examination went on, he was far away with his mind, somewhere between real world and astral plane, musing over things that had no importance, chewing at his lower lip.

He was aware that Hank asked him things, but he would not answer anyway. Sometimes he felt furry fingers against his skin, a needle stinging him, new bandages... "Take your medicine." Hank said, "And please do eat something. It is important for the recovery...Maybe, if you feel better next time, we can start the mental recovery. What do you think of that?"

Charles was silent.

He did not need mental recovery ; he was fine...As fine as you could be after a traumata.

Somehow Hank's eyes seemed sad.

Did he pity him?

Why did they always pity him? Charles did not need their pity, he did not need their help, he did not deserve it, it was his own fault-

No, no, that was not why, it was because he wanted to prove himself that he was strong, stronger than they thought he was, stronger than he had been before, before-

But,no...No, it was nothing like that...

He did not want their help...

He felt so pathetic.

Charles felt like crying.

Raven came down to take him upstairs. This time she did not talk to him, in fact she seemed really thoughtfully.

Charles had long jumped into the astral plane as they arrived the kitchen.

Raven's pale blue glass body was filled with yellow and orange smoke; she was nervous, nervous and worried. But this time her feelings had nothing to do with him. Charles' eyes wandered to the two boys who sat at the kitchen table; Alex's astral body was made of red glass, Sean's of green. Both of them shared the same feelings as Raven, the smoke in the whirling and swirling.

Charles furrowed his brow as he looked down to Sharon, who gave him a knowing glance. _You do know what they know, don't you?_

Sharon blinked.

Charles looked back up while he walked to the window; even the kitchen seemed brighter in the astral plane, everything seemed to glow in a soft light around the edges. _It has to be the psionic energy_ , he thought to himself as he placed his hand on the glass of the window. Everything in the astral plane was made of psionic energy, and if Charles would want he could change or create anything he would want. For him it was easy to manipulate psionic energy, it was a part of his powers; he just had to transfer his thoughts to the astral plane.

It almost was like manipulating a mind, just easier. If you create something in a mind, it will be a memory, something that will remain and change the mind; it always has consequences.

Charles was able to see what was real and what was an illusion.

If he looked very closely he could see the small tendrils and threads of psionic energy of which the astral plane was made. It was easy to form and bend the tendrils, you just need a bit of creativity and a lot of imagination. It is easier to create something that you know than something totally new. For example, it was easier to create the porcelain service of his grandmother than an unicorn. He had never seen an unicorn , and would probably never see one, and so he would have to trust his imagination. Luckily Charles had a lot of imagination, though, he did not really intent to create an unicorn. The porcelain set of his grandmother, on the other hand, was a memory inside his mind, something that he could easily transfer to the astral level.

Charles was not sure if other telepaths shared the same ability to transfer their thoughts to the astral plane, but he knew that the others like Raven, for example, were not able to change the astral plane. They could not see over the border of reality and astral plane, and that was why they could not enter the astral plain, or their own mind, without any help. That was why they could not manipulate psionic energy.

They didn't even know that the astral planes existed.

The voices of the others echoed through the plane, a soft background mumbling to him; he could hear them very well, and technically he could understand every word they said, but at the moment he did not want to listen.

And, it was a bit difficult right now to listen because of the medicin that Hank had given him; his mind was foggy again and it was hard to focus on their voices. It had been hard enough to jump through the fog of his mind into the astral plane.

"Charles, do you want to eat something?"

He did not answer.

Charles was aware that it had to scare them when his eyes became dim and unfocused because he was somewhere else with his mind - in the astral plane.

But, he was sure they had grown used to it.

The glass under his fingers began to disappear into small sparks of light until there was no glass in the window frame. Charles took a look back to the others, then he climbed out of the window into the yard; it was dark outside, the soft light of the kitchen and the other rooms was the only light source. However, it was no problem for Charles; he raised his right hand and stared at it, focusing. Within mere minutes some tendrils of psionic energy swirled up to his hand, forming a soft glowing light ball in the palm of his hand which was glowing in the greenish blue light of the psionic energy.

Sharon's eyes glowed in the light of the small ball, looking almost devilish; Charles was sure that his own eyes had the same appearance. In compare to the others his own astral body was looking the same as his normal body, but just because he was aware of his mental self which allowed him to form his body the way he wanted. At the moment he had no special interest in forming a new body, and so his mind had chosen his normal appearance.

 _A beautiful night, isn't it?_ Charles looked down to Sharon. Well, actually he looked down at two floating eyes since Sharon was almost invisible due her black fur. Sharon meowed in agreement. Charles gave her a small smile. _Then let's take a walk, shall we?_

They both walked down the small path, the light ball flying in front of them like a small bird. Charles raised his index finger, and with one simple thought the light ball formed into a small butterfly of light, glowing in all colors. The butterfly was inspired by the butterfly of a story that Charles had read once.  
Raven had loved the story; she had always wanted to hear it when they were about to go to bed. Charles could not remember its name.

The light was warm and soft, illuminating his skin so that it seemed to have the same colors as the light itself.

 _I must look like a ghost_ , Charles mused as they walked towards the pond.

He could still hear the voices of the others, which were floating through the night sky as if they were right next to him, and in fact, they were right next to him, in the kitchen. It was no wonder that he still could hear them, since his body was with them in the kitchen, able to hear everything they said. Their voices were like the soft whisper of the wind, though there was no wind here; it was quiet, quiet and peacefull.

Maybe that was why he loved the astral planes, because here he could be whatever he wanted to be, he could create anything he wanted, here it was peaceful...here he was in control. It made him feel safe...

Sharon meowed, her eyes directed at the far distance. She hissed, her tail wagging from side to side. _What is the matter?_ Charles asked. The butterfly of light flew higher to spread more light over them. The cat spat, ducking as if to hide while her eyes were narrowed. Charles' eyes wandered to the same direction; he could see nothing, it was too dark, but he could feel something...

 _Wait here_ , Charles told the cat, which gave him a warning glance. Charles began to walk along the narrow path, the butterfly of light flying high above him to lead the way.

Something was there...No,someone; Charles could feel it now, the other mind.

No, he could not FEEL it, that was the problem; normally he was able to feel any mind that entered the astral plane, but now it was as if there was a...hole. A dark hole without any feelings. It confused him.

He was quick on his feet, quicker than normally possible, but this was the astral plane, everything was possible here, at least for him, and so he ran, almost flew, along the path, his heart hammering in his chest, his eyes wide open. He was not afraid, he was...curious. No one could harm him, not here, here he was invincible.

 _Almost invincible_ , Charles corrected himself as he ran past the trees. Just because he could manipulate the astral plane did not mean that no one was able to seriously harm him here.

He stopped, hiding behind a tree as he felt the cold presence comming near. Who was it? And, most importantly, was this someone on his way to the mansion? In the real world? Charles peered around the tree, his hands digging into the hard bark of the tree. It smelled like wood and warm spring air.

The butterfly suddenly reeled in the air, and Charles could feel that it was getting weeker, the warmth of it fading. The light became dim. _What...does that mean?_ Charles furrowed his eyes, trying to feed the small light with more energy, but the butterfly tumbled to the ground and dissolved in to blue sparks. The warmth of the energy disappeared and Charles could feel a soft tingling in his fingertips.

The light was gone and Charles had to narrow his eyes to make out the shapes of the trees in the dim bluish grey of the night. The light of the moon shone through the branches of the few trees, the grass underneath them glowing in an almost silvery light.

 _That cannot be_ , Charles thought, panic began to gnaw at him, _that has never happened before.._ He tried to swallow down the lump inside his throat as he suddenly felt it; the coldness, and as he breathed out he could see his breath in the air.

What the hell was going on? He should go, away, whatever it was, it was evil, destroying the warmth...

Charles began to walk backwards, slowly, his eyes wide open as he tried to see anything in the dark. He stumbled as his foot hit the root of a tree.

Then he could see it.

The darkness.

The darkness that had nothing to do with the bluish gray darkness of the night.

Charles tried not to breath, tried not to make any noise, he tried to be invisivble, because that he could be; he could be invisible, if he wanted. And yes, now he wanted to be invisible.  
 _  
I am invisible, no one can see me, I am not here, I am just a ghost, I am air, I am invisible, melting with the shadows of the night..._

His body began to turn paler, paler and paler till he was transparent, till he was no longer to be seen. Charles pressed his lips together, his hands balled into fists as he stood there like the trees around him, unmoving, trying not to breathe. _Don't breathe, don't, be quiet, make no noise..._

A part of him wanted to turn around and run till he was sure he was far far away from the darkness. The other part of him was too curious. And it was weird, because he hadn't been curious for over a month.

The darkness walked towards him, the black spot that was darker than black, which was cold...It had the form of a human, but it looked more like a shadow or a blurred shape of a human. And there was nothing but blackness, no memories, no mind, just...nothingness. And for one moment Charles feard it would eat him up, would eat his mind and all his energy, like a monster, like death itself... Charles could see that the blackness was wafting, swirling like the smoke inside a mind, and there was something gleaming, two glowing points where the eyes should be, two points of light in the color of red. _No, not red,_ he thought, his heart hammering, _magenta..._

Charles felt as if he was not able to move, frozen with fear as he stared straight ahead. It was reaching for him, the coldness, making him numb, began to wrap itself around him like tendrils of ice, crushing his lungs, taking his air-

The blackness walked, walked and walked till it was just several steps away from him, and Charles shivered, because it was so cold, everything was cold, the trees moaned...He had to go, he had to leave the astral plane right now, or he would freeze.

Would it kill him? Whatever it was, would it wrap its cold tendrils of darkness around him, swallow him? Would he be lost in the darkness, forever?

Whatever it was, this could not be a human mind, could not be a mind at all, because there was NO mind, there were no feelings, no memories, nothing, Charles could see and feel NOTHING, his powers were not able to locate anything within the shadows, and that frightened him.

The darkness reached for him, walked towards him, flames of darkness tried to grasp him...

And then he turned around, turned around and ran and ran and ran without looking back, his heart hammering in his chest as if it wanted to escape his chest, and he was calling the white border, calling it to jump back into the real world, to leave the astral plane, to leave this darkness behind...

What is this? What the hell... He had never seen something like that.

Charles winced as he jumped back into the real world; the transition had been a bit uncomfortable because his mental self had been too far away from his real body. He would have a headache, but that was nothing new anyway. His heart was still pounding in his chest as if he had been running miles.

He felt dizzy.

 _Has to be the side effect of the medication,_ he thought _, his mind sluggish._

"Everything alright Charles?" Raven asked. They were in his room, sitting in his bed. How much time he had spent in the astral plane?

Charles was sure he could still feel the coldness, that he could still see the darkness in front of his eyes, but no, nonono, this was his room, the real world; here was no shadow, and no cold darkness, this was reality, here he was safe..Safe from the shadow. He just hoped that the Shadow would be gone the next time. He did not want to lose the astral plane, it was his only hideaway, no one was allowed to take it from him, it was his, it was not fair it-

"Charles, hey." Raven rubbed his back as he grabbed the blanket with a tight grip of his left hand. "It's alright Charles, everything is alright..." She thought he had had a flashback again.

And she continued to read to him, and he tried to focus on her voice, her warm soft voice, his eyes fixed on the fire place. There was no fire in the fire place, because it was warm outside, but it helped Charles to imagine that there could be fire; warm fire, fire that would spread light and warmth...

Sharon was lying at the end of the bed, on his feet, purring, but here eyes were wary; she must be looking out for the shadow in the astral plane.

The light of the room was dim, the warmth of the blanket welcoming him, the soft pillow under his head comfortable... No matter how afraid he was of the shadow, no matter how afraid he was of going to sleep because he would see their faces again, no matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes open, it was of no use; in the end he fell asleep, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. He was simply too exhausted.

Raven smiled down at her brother, smiled and tugged the blanket higher, then she stood up and placed the book on the nightstand. "Sleep well, my dear brother." she whispered, sadness in her voice.

She was on her way down the dim lit corridor as Sean walked towards her, almost running, his green eyes serious. It was odd to see him so serious, normally he was such a cheerful guy. But, who could be cheerful right now, in those times?

"He's back." Sean whispered, nervously looking over his shoulder as if he was afraid that he would appear right behind him. "He's in the yard..."

Raven narrowed her eyes and gave the redhead a nod. Both went down the stairs. The door opened as Raven reached the lower floor.

He stood in the doorway, his face an emotionless mask. The dim light of the hallway was reflected by the helmet, his cape blowing in the wind.

"Erik Lehnsherr." Raven more than growled, walking up to Erik who met her gaze unaffected by the anger in her voice. "Explain!" She hissed, poking her index finger into his chest. There were tears of anger and despair in her yellow eyes, tears that she could no longer supress. "Explain why it is necessary start a war!"

He did not answer.

She knew the answer already.


	9. There Is Something Going On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, and the lyrics at the beginning belong to the Song "My Darling" by Wilco.  
> A lovely song. (that I do not own, of course.)

_"Go back to sleep now  
My darling  
And I'll keep all the bad dreams away  
Breathe now, think sweet things  
And I'll think of all the right words to say_

_Because we made you  
My darling  
With the love in each of our hearts  
We were a family, my darling  
Right from the start..."_

[ _(Wilco, My Darling)_ ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3NP8kDftAk8)

**Chapter 8**

Why is war necessary?

There were a few reasons, at least for Erik.

The metal-bender looked down at Raven; Raven, who poked him with her finger, over and over again, yelling at him, telling him that he was a good damn **fool** , that he had no right to start a **war** , that this would affect all of them, and by the way, what will **Charles** think?

As if Charles would care.

 _Well_ , Erik thought as he stared at Raven, hardly listening to her words which were sounding like a roar to his ears, _He will care. He will blame it on himself. He will be totally depressed..._

But, could it be even worse than now? Yes, sure it could be worse, it could always be worse, and that was why Erik had decided one thing; "He won't know."

Raven's finger stopped, hovering in the air just mere inches in front of Erik's chest. "What?" She asked, her eyebrows raised as she glared at Erik. There was disbelief in her eyes.

"He will not know." Erik repeated calmly, no emotions visible on his face. "'I'll make sure of that. I won't tell him anything about the war." His eyes turned to the boys, who stood at the banisters. "And you won't tell him either."

Raven took several steps backwards, laughing hysterically as she raised her arms. "Oh, sure! Let's lie to him, because that is the **best** and only thing we can do for him right now, right?! OHHH,I am sure it will help! I am sure he **won't find out anything** , because war is something you can oh so easily **hide**! I am sure he won't notice the bombs, I am sure he won't notice if anyone of us fucking **DIES**!"

Erik did not flinch, did not make a single movement as she began to yell, her voice raising in volume. "He is a bloody telepath Erik! HE WILL KNOW! Do you even know **what** you have done!? Do you even have a **plan**!? God damn it, you...you idiot! You damn idiot!" And she was crying again, because she was so so angry, and her voice was tight, her face twisted in despair and pain; the pain of of feeling deceived.

Erik's eyes turned to the boys once again; he was not surprised to see the anger in Alex's face, not surprised by the sadness in Sean's eyes. Though, he was surprised that they stayed calm. Raven was the only one who screamed and yelled, probably because she was the only one who had less respect of him than the others. _Well, not respect_...She only saw him in another light.

For her, he was Erik Lehnsherr, just another stupid idiot who had probably driven them all into misery. She was afraid, and she cared, cared about her brother who hardly noticed her in his current state.

For the boys he was an authority figure; they feared the man he could be, the man he was at the moment. Raven, however, did not care WHO he was, she only cared for what he had done, and what he would do.  To her he was a normal man, no hero, no villian, no god. It would change, maybe, probably, when the war would start; she would have respect, she would see him as their leader, some day, in the future.

"Do you even listen to me?!" She poked him again, tried to poke him, but he grabbed her wrist in a vice-like grip, making her gasp in surprise. "Stop that now." he said, his voice as cold as his eyes. "Don't talk to me in that way."

She opened her mouth, stubbornness and anger in her features, but Erik spoke before she could say something else. "I can understand your anger. But you can't tell me that you have not thought about the possibillity of war against the humans."

Her face turned slack, only her lips were trembling. Oh, he had been right..

"See." he said, almost softly as he released her hand. She did not try to poke him again. "I know that you are angry, at me and at them, and I know that you want to see them suffer for what they have done to Charles." She shivered as he mentioned her brother's name. "And we all have known that the day would come where we would end up in a war."

Alex snorted, causing Erik to turn his gaze to the blonde boy next to Sean. "Honestly?" the blonde spat. "That's bullshit!"

Erik raised on eyebrow, his face a perfect mask of no emotions as he answered with his smooth voice, "For you. Not for me. I know how to achive my goals. Peace, kind words...the way Charles has tried it...You see that it has not worked."

Alex laughed dryly, leaning back against the dark wall. He was almost melting with the shadows. "It could have worked." His voice was small, stubborn. He was trying to cling to the illusion of peace that Charles had tried to built, he tried not to lose his hope, the hope that Charles had given him, them, but Erik could see that the walls of faith were crumbling...

"It could have." Erik agreed calmly. "But you see, it has not. I have given them a chance because Charles has asked me to do so. I did what I was asked to do, and you see what happened. " Long enough he had done what other wanted him to do. Now was HIS time to do it HIS way.

The kids were quiet.

The look on their face...It was something between sadness, disappointment and hurt. And suddenly Erik felt a slight twinge inside his guts. _Guilt_ , he realized.

But, why?

Why did he feel guilty?

Because of their sad expression?

Because of the reproachful glances?

Because they were young, younger than he was?

Because,...Because maybe they were right?

 _NO_ , his mind scolded him sternly, too stubborn to ponder about what was right and what was wrong. _You have done the only right thing! This is the only way to show the humans that WE are stronger than they are! They shall fear US! WE are supposed to rule the world, WE are the next step of the evolution!_

Raven, Hank, Sean, Alex...They were children, young adults, they did know NOTHING about war and about the horror it would bring, but they did also know NOTHING about how horrible it could be to stand under the mercy of someone else, to be imprisoned, to be doomed to die slowly and painfully...To have no freedom..  
 _  
You have done the right thing_ , his inner voice told himself, _you should not feel guilty.  
_  
Erik had his reasons; Erik did know why he was doing what he was doing. Someday the children would understand him, and someday they would thank him for what he had done. Someday, when the war would be over, and everything was alright.

Everything, and everyone..

_Charles..._

"Maybe...Maybe there won't be a war..."Sean began, his voice small and not convincing at all. It was not Erik who answered him, instead it was Raven; her voice was shallow as she turned around to face the red-haired boy. "Don't fool yourself, Sean..."

Maybe it was the way she spoke, maybe the way she stood, her shoulders hunched forward and her eyes dull, but somehow Erik had the feeling that she had given up on peace. On the illusion of peace. The illusion that Charles had made. She had realized that there was no other way. She knew he was right.

Sean's eyes were wide, wide and green as he looked down on her, his pale hand gripping the banister in a tight grip. "I won't give it up." He said, his voice calm and steady; he stood tall, his gaze lowered so that he looked down on Raven. His red hair seemed too red for the dim lit hallway.

Erik knew that he meant hope. _Poor boy_ , his mind sighed, _poor naive boy_. Some day he would realize it as well, some day he would SEE...

_"There will always be hope, you can't suppress it; it is like a small light, a small spark inside your heart, and you are feeding it, day for day, with your dreams and wishes, until some day this small spark will be a fire. And this fire will warm you if you are cold, will be your light if there is only darkness; this fire will save you. It is one, simple thing, hope, but it can change so much. A lot of things depend on hope, my dear friend, and I am not ashamed to tell you that my hope might be greater than the knowledge that I possess.."_

_Hope..._

_Where is it, your hope, Charles? Where has it gone?_ And, most importantly; where was his, Erik's, own hope? Charles had been his hope; Charles had embodied the hope of all of them.

Charles' hope had been a fire, now it was just a spark, a tiny spark, if a spark at all. And, Erik feared that he had choked off this spark - had choked off this spark already, with the upcomming war. The war that HE had demanded, the war that HE had declared..

But, Charles did not need to know...

Erik just hoped he had not messed it up.

If just everything would be alright...

He wanted to see Charles.

Erik walked past the young adults, up the stairs, quietly. None of them said a word.

The hallway was dark, he could barely see anything; the shadows were dark, darker than the grayish blue light of the night, darker than the silver of the moon. The dim light from the lower floor looked like fire against the bluish darkness of the wooden floor and the dark wall.

He did not turn on the light.

Erik liked the darkness, for now he liked it. Somehow he felt safe in it..

He looked down; the magenta of his cotton jacket seemed to glow in the darkness, _strange_ , and his footsteps echoed through the hallway, a steady _thump thump thump_ against the wooden floor. It was the only sound that could be heared.

Erik stopped in front of the wooden door, his gloved hand hovering over the metal door handle. His hearting was pounding inside his chest. Why?

His fingers curled around the handle, slowly pushing it down. The door opened quietly, the door hinges creaking; the room in front of his eyes was dark, dark besides the small light on the bedside table. Charles had never liked the darkness.

Erik walked up to the big double bed, slowly, carefully, trying not to make a sound as he stopped in front of it. _The blankets are green_ , he realized, _dark_ _green like the curtains in the hallway._

Charles had curled up into a ball, lying on his side, being asleep; Hank must have given him something to help him sleep well, because Erik was sure that he hadn't seen Charles asleep for days, at least not willingly. The younger man always refused to go to sleep. _The nightmares...  
_  
Charles' brow furrowed, and his face looked grim. Erik crouched down, taking the helmet off of his head, placing it next to himself on the floor. Charles mouth twitched, and he tightened the blanket around his small form. Yes, small, he looked small in the big bed. Small, and pale.  
 _  
He has become thinner_ , Erik suddenly noticed as studied the face of the telepath. A _nd the circles under his eyes have become darker..._

He had never taken a closer look, because Charles would back away. Now, however, Erik could see everything very well.

The M above Charles right eye had healed well, it was a scar now, red against his too pale skin. _It will fade. Someday it will fade, like the rest._

It would fade, but not disappear.

It would never disappear, as well as the memories.

Charles still could not breathe properly; his pale lips were parted, his chest raising and falling slowly as if it was difficult to breathe. Erik smiled slightly as he pushed a strand of dark hair out of the pale face and behind Charles' ear. The sight of his friend did hurt, but at the same time it made his heart feel lighter, warmer..

It was the sight he could not bear, and the presence that he longed for.

Charles' eyelids fluttered, then he opened his eyes; they were clouded, unfocused, something dark lying over the bright blue. He was looking tired, tired and ill. But, there hadn't been a single day the past month where he hadn't looked like that.

"Hello, Charles." Erik whispered, his voice soft, much softer than the voice he had used for the talk witht the children; there was more love in it, more care.. "It was not my intention to wake you."

The telepath stared at him, his glassy eyes searching for something, trying to focus, eyelids fluttering because he was so tired. It seemed to take much effort to keep his eyes open, let alone stay awake. Erik could hear the small sound of Charles' heavy breathing. Charles did not blink as his left hand tightened around the green blanket, his thin fingers digging into the soft fabric.

He wasn't afraid, wasn't he?

Erik smiled, slightly, but Charles just stared. _It has to be the light_ , Erik mused. _He can barely see my face because the light of the nightstand is too dim.  
_  
"It's me, Charles." He said, carefully, as if Charles wouldn't know that it was him. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. "You should go back to sleep now."

Charles blinked, _confused?_ , pressing his lips together. He looked stubborn, though this expression was soon fading away; Charles was tired; too tired to mistrust Erik or anyone else, and so his eyes fell shut again, the grip around the fabric of the blanket loosened until his fingers let go of it. The dim light of the lamp cast dark shadows on his pale skin, which was almost gleaming in a soft golden hue.

Erik sat there and stared, looking at the pale and ill-looking face of his friend, his love, his Charles. He did not look peaceful, not even if he was asleep; his face was always stern, always without the hint of a smile, serious, and pained. And there was a sadness in his features, a sadness that once had been joy...

If he would just say something, anything, no matter what it was; Erik missed his voice, missed the presence in the back of his head. He felt so lonely without it. And he felt tired, suddenly, tired and lonely, and he wished that **_it_** would have never happened.

 _Charles would have stopped me,_ Erik realized as he sat there at the cold wooden floor in front of the big double bed. _He would have stopped me from starting a war. He would have found a way, he would have known what to do, I am sure of that. Though..._

..Though, even Charles was just a man, and even Charles had his limits.

And so Erik sat there, sat and stared and was quiet while he hugged his knees with his arms like a frightened child. Not frightened, his inner voice corrected him. A lonely child. He was not utterly lonely, he still had the kids, of course, and all the other mutants out there, but...But he missed Charles, because Charles had been a part of him, was still a part of him, something important, something that...was not there anymore, not inside his head, not in the back of his mind, not present at all..

He was there, but not with them, and it made Erik so damn sad and depressed. _Frustrated_ , his inner voice whispered. _You are frustrated._

If he could fix him, he would; he would gather up all the broken pieces, all the silly hopes and dreams and rebuilt Charles until he was Charles again, the real Charles...Not the shadow of a man he once had been...

 _If, if, if!_ Erik was so angry, angry at the world and himself and at the humans, at everyone. Even at Charles, because...Because he was withdrawing himself from the rest of the world, because he refused to live in the real world, because he was leaving Erik alone... Of course that was selfish, selfish of Erik to think that way, but he could not help it...

No one could change his current situation besides himself, and so Erik tried the best to make it better.

He had to be strong.

For all of them.

_Especially for Charles._

Erik sighed as he leaned his forehead on his arms, inhaling deeply; his clothes smelled like fresh spring air and the cotton of his jacket itched against the skin of his forehead.

He did not notice that he fell asleep.

...

Charles looked down onto the white paper in front of him. A red metal pen was lying next to it.

Hank sat across from him, his paws folded in front of him on the table. He eyed Charles with an interested gleam in his eyes; he was curious. "If you don't want to talk," he had said, "you can write it down. I know that your right hand...is still a problem, but it should work with your left hand. As far as I remember you've once told me that you are ambidextrous. What do you think?"

Yes, what did Charles think?

Somehow Charles felt really blank, as blank as the paper, as he stared down on it. He did not want to write down anything, neither would he use his telepathy; he didn't want to be in the head of someone else, _not anymore..._

So Charles stared down on the white paper on the lab table, stared and pondered. Somehow he had no strenght to start a talk.

What was Erik doing at the moment? Charles had seen him today during breakfast, and he was sure he could vaguely remember that Erik had been in his room during the night, but he was not sure. The other man had looked grim, grim and deep in thoughts, and Charles had asked himself what Erik was thinking about.

"Charles?" Charles blinket and looked up to meet Hank's gaze. The blue furred mutant had tilted his head. The blue fur seemed too blue for the white lab coat and was shiny in the light of the lamps. His eyes looked like those of a cat, eyeing Charles with a serious expression. "Please try it. It is important."

"Though-" he added "I won't force you."

Charles knew he wouldn't do something like that, never, not Hank, but he also knew that Hank desperatly hoped that he would achive a success. It had to be frustrating. It was frustrating. For both of them. But,it was not as easy as Hank might believed... Charles stared at the paper, stared and stared as if it would disappear if he stared long enough.  

Charles could not say how long they sat there, both staring at the paper as if it was a kind of miracle. Maybe...Maybe he should write something, anything, to make Hank happy. He was sure the blue scientist would be more than happy. And, after all, this was not about Hank; this was about him, about Charles. Hank wanted to help him, and so it was up to Charles to take this help.

His left hand reached for the pen, slowly, carefully wrapping his fingers around the cool metal. _Metal..._

Hank's eyes widened, watching Charles, who was fully aware that Hank stared at him.

What to write? What to say?

He sat the pen down on the paper; his hand trembled and he asked himself _why_. Charles was not sure if he was nervous, or why it was so difficult for him to write something down on a paper. He could not say why he was not able to speak.

Somehow he never had the strenght to bring the words over his lips; they stuck in his throat while his chest would tighten painfully, causing him more troubled breathing. Now his hand was trembling, trembling while he moved the pen over the paper. The ink was dark blue. It looked like Hank's fur against the lab coat.

Charles liked the scratchy sound of the lead of the pen. He wrote to words, just two, and pushed the paper over the table.

Hank took the paper, carefully, as if he was afraid it would crumble under his touch, looking down on it. A small smile crossed his blue lips.

_Hello Hank._

"Hello Charles." He said, still smiling as he pushed the paper over the table, back to Charles. "How are you today?"

Charles looked at Hank, thoughtfully, thinking, then he scribbled his answer on the paper and pushed it back over the table. Hank's eyes flew over the paper.

_I feel okay. I had better times.  
How are you?_

Hank laughed, a soft laughter, as he pushed the paper back to Charles. "I am fine. More than fine."

And Charles knew, without looking inside Hank's mind, that Hank was more than happy. And this was when Charles smiled, just slightly, because he was glad that Hank was happy.

Finally a success, a small success, something that Hank could work with.

Charles also knew that Hank would not push him, not when he had finally achived a small success. Hank was not stupid, he was well aware that this was not easy for Charles.

 _We will start with easy things_ , Charles thought, _small talk, unimportant things..  
_  
 _Trying to gain my trust, then start talking about important things, about what is going on inside my head, considering if I am beyond redemption..._

_Talking, looking, trying to fix what is broken, gathering it back together, placing back the pieces, melting it togethe, making me whole again, waiting for future success.._

Charles was okay with that. In fact, he was glad; glad that he could finally talk to someone. Maybe not with his mind, and not with his voice, but ...it was nice. He wouldn't have thought that it would be...such a relief.

The 'talk' with Hank had been a nice change in Charles' daily life.

They hadn't talked about much, and would have been totally boring to every normal person, but for Charles it was a start. It was weird, at least for Charles, that a conversation could be such a problem. Usually he never had had any problems with starting a conversation; there had always been a topic, always something to talk about. He had longed for the presence of others around him, and it had been almost unbearable for him to stay alone.

Well, but things had changed.

"It is so great." Raven said, her voice cheerfully as she wheeled him down the hallway. They were on their way to the livingroom. "I am so glad, you know?"

Of course he knew. But he also sensed that something was bothering his sister, and again it was not his telepathy but pure instinct. Charles turned his head to follow the rays of the sun through the open window. Such a nice day today,like yesterday. The sky was blue, without a cloud. This summer would be great.

"Are you hungry, Charles? Do you want to eat something?" He furrowed his brow, tilting his head. Where was Sharon? He hadn't seen her today.

But,no, no he was not hungry. Maybe a bit, but he wanted to see Erik, and Erik was in the livingroom because of the television. Erik was watching a lot of television lately, but Charles knew it was because of the news. He would eat something, later that day. When was lunch time? It wasn't even one pm.

"Charles, I am hungry, do you mind if I'll eat something?" Of course he did not mind. He shook his head, _It's alright.  
_  
She stopped and walked around his wheelchair, her yellow eyes bright and her smile soft as she placed one hand on his shoulder. He did not flinch. "Okay, then. I'll be back in some minutes. Will you wait here or do you want to go outside?"

Charles furrowed his brow, again, because he was sure she had said something about going to the living room. He shrugged his shoulders, telling her that he did not care, and she nodded.

"Okay, then you'll wait outside, right? It's such a lovely weather, you should not stay inside. Do you have your pen and paper? Maybe you can draw something while being outside." She was babbling.

Something was worrying her. _Something is on her mind._

What was going on?

She had never been good in hiding things, especially not her emotions, not from him. He was her brother, he knew her better than anyone else; the way she stood, her shoulders straight and her brow slightly furrowed, and the ever present smile on her lips...Something was troubling her. She went down the hallway, quick, her steps steady.

Charles eyes were fixed on corner, then he turned them back to the window. He could almost feel the golden sun rays on his skin. It looked so pale, his skin, even in the sun. _Especially in the sun.._.

Usually he had freckles, just a few, barely to be seen, but now there was not a single one to be seen. _Lack of sun_ , his mind chirped, _you should really go outside more often._

Charles tilted his head as he outstreched the fingers of his left hand in front of his face. As if to reach for the light...

He turned his head back to the corner. The living room was just around the left corner. Maybe he could take a look, at Erik. Why did he suddenly want to see Erik in such a desperate kind of way? Maybe because he felt lonely... _Yes,maybe..._

Charles wheeled himself down the hallway, which took a great effort since only his left hand was working probably. Well, but somehow he managed it, even if his breathing became a bit labored. _Just a bit_ , of course...There was a slight pain in his chest, and his left hand did hurt, afterwards, because it was a great deal to move his weight down the whole hallway and into the living room.  

It was his telekinesis that helped him, that pushed him forward. He did not know that.

The living room had a dark wooden floor, like the rest of the mansion, though there was a red carpet under the sofa and the small table with the television on it. The sofa was green.

The living room had big windows, windows which were letting in the sunlight so that the whole room was bright and illuminated by soft golden light. Curtains made of heavy fabric in the color of dark red framed the windows.

The bookshelves at the wall were full of old books, books that Charles knew like he knew all the books in the libary, though, at the moment he could not remember their content. One of them had been a children's story. Just one. There had never been any kind of children's storys in this house. Charles had made-up most of the storys that he had told Raven.

Erik sat on the sofa, his shoulders were hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His hands were folded under his chin, and his face was serious.

He did not notice Charles, not immediately.

Charles eyes wandered over Erik, eyeing him, taking in the sight. Erik wore the purple turtleneck, his favourite one, and his trousers were black. His hair was neatly combed back. Charles noticed that it had a golden hue in the light. Maybe it was just the light. Charles could not see the look inside Erik's eyes, because Erik's eyes were fixed on the screen. Charles was sure they were gray and cold. They were always gray when he was angry,angry or serious. Always more gray then green.

Green?

Or, was it blue?

Charles couldn't remember.

Charles' eyes wandered to the TV screen, wondering what could cause Erik to look so grim. He felt his inside turn ice cold as he saw the two men on the screen.

One of the was Stryker. Stryker in his gray suit with a black tie and his gray hair and those cold cold eyes.

He knew the other one next to him.

_Nice clothes, black hair, those voice..._

That was not possible, it was not possible, he knew he had killed them, accidently, he knew it, he had seen their dead bodies, he knewheknewheknew!

But yet there he stood, talking, but Charles could not hear what he said, he just saw those lips moving, could only hear the voice, this voice again, not again!  
 _  
"Xavier was your name, right? But who does care, such scum like you doesn't even need a name."_

And the hand was tight around his throat, the grin was mercyless, and he could not breath, he could not think, no,nononono!

His left hand grabbed the arm of his wheelchair in a tight grip, his eyes wide but unseeing. Suddenly breathing was so difficult . He could not hear Erik's voice, he did not realize what was happening around him, all he could hear was this voice, and he could see that grin, this grin, again!

_Nonono **NO**!_   
**_  
NOTAGAIN!_ **

Something shattered, a window maybe, someone was shouting, someone fell to the ground, a loud thud, things were moving...

His heart was hammering, hammering in his chest, a loud thump thump thump thump in his ears,getting louder and louder, and he bit his lower lip, hard, till it was bleeding, he could tast the blood,...

There was blood,so much blood, everywhere, his blood, and everything did hurt, so much, his head, someone was talking, no, was it real, it could not be,no, nononono, he was back in the alley, no, not those men, not again, not this laughter, laughter everywhere, and it is cold,so cold, and he could not move, could not, was trapped, trapped between a body and a wall, and was he crying, he did not know, no,no, no word, not a sound, they would kill him, he was sure, he was sure!

_**Stop** , stopstopstopstop!_

"Charles!"

He did not want to die, no,no,nonononon, no, he did not, not here, not now, go,gogogogog away, they should go, he had to make them leave, had to gather his power back together, but his head did hurt,so much, did hurt, and someone was talking, he was afraid, so afraid!

Everything was a blur.

He shivered, his throat felt so tight, and no,nono, he could not breath, his chest did hurt, and he gasped, tried to breath,breath because he needed air, but hecouldnot!  
 _  
 **GOD,** make it **STOP**! Not again, never, not, **not again**!_

He had to go,had to leave, if the would not he would-

"Charles!"

He could not remember what happened afterwards.


	10. Panic Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chappy isn't too ...clumsy? xD  
> I will try to update as fast as possible, but I really can't promise anything since I have such a troublesome time, and there is still the other cherik-story that I haven't updated for almost three weeks now (damn it!) and then my granny will visit us from 23 till 27 and and and!  
> But, don't worry, I will update ! ( as fast as I can! Which would be in one week...maybe one and a half..or two..O_o)
> 
> Uh,and my Charles Cosplay is finally ready to wear! :D I made some testpics, which can be found on Deviantart.com (same username).
> 
> I wish you all a Merry Christmas!

_"If you could turn back time ... Would you do it?"_

 _"...I don't know."_

 _And I still don't know.  
So many bad things have happened. So many things could have been prevented.  
But...Would I dare?  
Maybe everything would be even worse?  
But, maybe...maybe it would be even better..._

 _I don't know._

 _But I know that I would change a lot of things.  
However...The mere thought that it would, or could, mean that I would never meet -would have never met- Charles makes me sad.  
I think I wouldn't want that._

 _The past is the past, I fear, and sadly we can't change it, no matter how desperately we wish we could.  
We all have to live in the present.  
Better we make the best of it._

 _We just have one life to live, after all...  
_   
**Chapter 9**

He sat there with his elbows propped on to his knees, his chin resting on his folded hands while he was staring at the TV screen. He could barely hear what they were saying, but he knew it was about the war. He knew it was about mutants.

Stryker looked so serious, his cold eyes full of hate, his posture stiff.  
 _  
"I told you!"_ Stryker said, his voice stern as if to scold the viewers and listeners. _"I told you that they want to kill us! NOW you have the proof! They will try to kill us. They won't hesitate, but WE won't hesitate either!"  
_  
He said a lot of more things, but Erik could not bring himself to listen to this man. It was hard enough to watch those two men, standing there and talking shit about mutants. _Maybe_ , Erik thought, his inner voice ruefully, _maybe I shouldn't have said anything about a war._

Was it his fault, that the humans were even more angry? Maybe he had made it worse. Yes, of course he had made it worse; war was horrible and worse than their current situation, but...

 _But, what should I have done otherwise? I need to save my kind, I can't just...sit and watch.._

Erik clenched his jaw, his lips firmly pressed together as he stared at the screen. The other man began to speak, his voice was smooth and low, his eyes evil. Erik had the feeling that he knew that man, that he had seen him somewhere else, but...he could not remember where.

Probably just another politican...

 _"I nearly got killed by a mutant."_ The man stood tall and straight. He was at least one head taller than Stryker, and half as old. His voice was casual as he spoke, casual but with a hint of strong dislike; no, not even dislike, more... _blazing hatred.."I survived the attack, with a lot of luck, but my friends..did not survive."_

The man cleared his throat. Erik knew the man was not sad about the death of his followers; there was no hint of sadness in his expression, nor in his voice. All Erik could see was hatered, and loathing...

Everywhere..

 _Hostility, bias..._  
 _  
Humans_ , his mind snorted.

But, wasn't it his own fault as well, that the hate was even stronger now? He might represent a kind of saviour for the mutant kind but for the humans he was the pure evil..

 _A terrorist.._

He swallow hard; never ever he would have thought that he would become a terrorist - or anything close to it.

 _"Now is the time to act! Now is the time to stop them! Magneto-"_ Stryker nearly spat that name. Erik wondered if he knew that it was him, Erik Lehnsherr, because that would explain why Stryker was staring at the camera as if Erik was right in front of him, as if he KNEW him. Somehow it made Erik feel uncomfortable.Though, nah; Stryker was an old bastard, he wouldn't remember him. "I _know that you are watching this, because you want to know what **WE** are going to do. "_ Stryker narrowed his eyes, his index-finger pointing at the camera. _" **WE** will fight you! There is no way out of this for you. You will die, as well as the rest of your 'race'."_

 _"God be with us."  
_  
 _Yes,_ Erik thought dryly while his fingers were digging into the back of his hands, _yes, god be with you. Pray for your stupid lifes..._

Sick. It made him sick, because it was reminding him of the camps. The war...The horror...It would not end like this again, never.... _Never again_.

No camps, no burned bodies, no screaming children, no torn families, no fear of losing everything, no smoke and ashes in the air, never again, never like this.

 _Nie wieder_ , he had promised himself, _Nie wieder wird so etwas passieren._

He hadn't been able to save his family.

He hadn't been able to save his friends.

He hadn't been able to save Charles...

He would make it better; he would save them, his kind.  
 _  
This...This time I will save them. I can do it...I just...need to pull myself together.._

There never was an end, wasn't it? The circle of hate, rage and war would continue.

No one could break it.

There was a gasp.

Erik turned his head around, his brow furrowed because he hadn't heard anyone entering the room. His heart dropped as he saw who it was.

 _Charles._

Charles, sitting in his wheelchair, a sketchblook on his lap and his blue blue eyes wide as he stared at the TV. He was pale, more than pale; he looked like a ghost. The eyes of the younger man were filled with panic, horror, and his lower lip was trembling while the fingers of his left hand were grabbing the arm of the wheelchair in a tight grip.

He was trembling all over.

"Charles?" Erik asked, slowly, carefully.  Charles was more than afraid, there was utter panic in his gaze, utter pain in every fibre of his being. And still he was staring at the screen, staring and staring while he ignored Erik. His breathing became frantic.

A panic attack?

Erik stood up, his legs were shaky but he had no clue why; and then it hit him, the wave of emotions, strong like the hit of a wave against a rock.

 _Painfearself-loathingdespairpanicPanic **PANIC!**_

Erik stumbled forward, hitting the edge of the glass-topped coffee table with the knee of his right leg. His head was spinning and he felt a nausea approaching. Too many emotions...

"Charles." He groaned, trying to walk a straight line, which was more difficult than he had thought. God, his head did hurt! His whole body did hurt! He could not bear it!

 **_NOTAGAIN!_ **

And then there was a bang, something shattered. Erik's head jerked up, his eyes widening as he realized that one of the bookshelves had been thrown out of the window, the glass shattering and flying through the air. NO, not flying, _hovering!_

A new wave of raw emotions hit him and he stumbled backwards, stumbling over something, then he fell to the ground; all the air was knocked out of his lungs, his nose was bleeding, but he was barely aware of it.

Erik's eyes turned back to Charles, and he could not suppress the shiver that went down his spine at the sight of his telepath; Charles seemed to glow, soft silvery blue light radiating around his small form, his blue eyes even bluer while the pupils were small and almost gone. He seemed so lost, not aware what he was doing, his pale red lips parted for a silent scream.

It was a scary sight.

 _ **Stop** , stopstopstopstop!_

"Charles!" Erik managed to get up to his feet, his whole body shivering and wobbling while he grasped the backrest of the armchair for the support of his own weight. He was crying, Charles, he was crying, Erik could see it now. The tears were crystal clear and running down his pale cheeks like raindrops against a window.

He was so pale.

It sucked him up, the emotions, the feelings, the memories, they sucked him up, leaving him in a mess, both of them, tangled, and everything was blurry.

Blood, so much blood, everywhere, it was so dark, cold, it was cold, his body did hurt, he could taste blood in his mouth, no air, no air, he could not breathe, hands everywhere-

Erik could no longer tell which feelings were his own and which belonged to Charles.

Afraid, he was so afraid, oh oh,  someone kicking his ribs, crying, he was crying, trembling, screaming, nonono, what was going on?

Everything was a blur, his head was a mess, the outlines of the room began to fade into darkness, into the darkness of the alley, but then he was back in the living room, and the sunlight was so bright and mockingly.  
 _  
 **GOD** , make it **STOP**! Not again, never, not, **not again**!_

Gasping, squirming, trying to break free, hands on his hips, they would leave bruises, and he was laughing, laughing, he could hear him laughing, his nose was bleeding, his head, his head, his hands scraping over skin, a mess, everything was a mess, he could smell blood and sweat and it was so cold, the cold air like a knife against his nacked skin, breathe, breathe, breathe in and out...

 _I... am a-afraid..._

Erik's voice was screaming inside his head, not Charles' - never Charles'. Charles was quiet.

It was so real...

Someone forcing himself between his legs, gagging him, grabbing his shoulders, shaking him, his head hit the cold wall, making him dizzy, his eyelids fluttered, headache, he was not crying, _nonono_ , he was not, not real, this was not real, not real!

 _This h-hasn't happened, dream dream, n-nightmare, g-go away, leave, leave me alone! P-Please...please..._

Erik tried to struggle free of the tangles of thoughts and emotions, but it was so difficult! He would drown,drown in the memories, dark memories which were consuming him, haunting him, Charles, Erik, them all, Erik was not sure.

Erik brushed them away, the tendrils which stuck to him, silvery blue threads of light which had wrapped themselves around his mind, crushing it, destroying it, pulling him deeper and deeper into the darkness...

 **_Stop!_ **

Erik gasped for air as he stumbled towards Charles, whose lips had begun to turn blue; he was not breathing anymore. The panic must have crushed his lungs.

"Charles!"  

Erik ducked away as a flying dictionary nearly smashed his head. A lot of loose things were hovering in the air now, surrounded by a bluish shimmer; pencils, paper, books, even the sofa was hovering mere inches above the wooden floor. Erik was glad that he himself wasn't flying through the room, though, that wasn't his biggest concern right now.

Something shattered, a thud, wood was creaking, the glass table hit the wall, something clanged to the floor. The TV flickered, the screen turned off and on until the TV fuse popped out, the glass of the screen shattering.

"Charles!" Erik had managed to reach Charles' side; the telepath's eyes fluttered, he was struggling to breathe, his body trembling with a spasm. His left hand was clutching the arm of his wheelchair in a desperate grip, his knuckle were white and his fingers stiff. "Charles, calm down Charles, everything is alright, shhh,shhhh...." Erik whispered, reaching up with his right hand to stroke over the pale and tearstained cheek. He was still crying, the tears hot and wet on Erik's fingers. "Breathe, Charles, keep breathing, calm down, you are safe.."

But Charles did not breathe, he just sat there and gazed into space, his lips parted and blue, his skin white and hot with panic. And now Erik was afraid, yes, he was afraid, because suddenly he feared that Charles would suffocate.

"Charles, beruhige dich, beruhige dich!" Erik leaned forward, his thumbs brushing away the tears. "Ganz ruhig, alles ist gut, shhhh....Ich bin doch da.." _Calm down, Calm down Charles, everything is alright, everything is okay, I am here with you..._

 _You are not alone...I am with you_

The lights flickered while the curtains were wafting without a trace of wind and the doors of the shelves opened and closed with a loud banging.

It felt so weird...to...to be the one who cared. Erik had never been good in caring for others; he had cared about his family, about his parents and his sister, but he had only cared about himself after they had died.

Then he had begun to care about Charles, who in return had cared about Erik, and that had been utterly new for Erik because no one had actually cared for him. How could have anyone cared if he had been alone all the time?

He had been a loner, was still one, and would stay a loner.

That was his plan, had been his plan.

Now...Now he cared, more than before, about Charles, because Charles needed someone who cared about him.

Especially now.

But Charles was so far away again, lost in the darkness of his memories, lost in a flashback, far far away... He could not hear Erik and Erik could not help him if he did not listen.

"Charles..." he whispered, not able to suppress the sadness in his voice. God...This all...It made him so sad all over again, made his heart ache with sorrow and regret.

And then, always again, he wished he could have helped him, wished he would have been there, even if his inner voice told him over and over again that it was the past, that it was over, that Erik could not change it no matter how desperatly he wished he could..

"Shhh...." His hand wandered upwards to pet Charles' wavy hair, which was sticky with sweat. "Shhh..." The metal-bender leaned forward as he crouched in front of the wheelchair, his forhead resting against Charles'. "Breathe, Charles, breathe..."

It was still there, the tangle of emotions, the darkness behind the vision of Erik, the fear, the panic, the sadness...But it was faint, like a second layer behind his eyes, a layer of translucent paper,  fading...

Charles was trembling, trying to breathe properly, trying to come back to the real world, but Erik was sure that he was lost, lost in the darkness of the event, lost in his memories... His pulse was weak, not as wild as it had been before. _The lack of air_ , Erik thought, panicking again , _the lack of air!_

He stumbled to his feet again, leaning down to lift Charles out of the Wheelchair into his arms. The eyelids of the telepath fluttered heavily, his blue eyes glassy. "HANK!" Erik called, his voice shaky as he pressed Charles against his chest. "HANK!"

Charles had stilled in his arms. He was not crying anymore. Actually, he wasn't doing anything anymore.

The hovering things in the living room fell back to the ground, the bluish gleam around Charles was fading, as well as the shimmer around the objects.

Erik's heart began to speed up, his breath quickend as he ran down the hallway, screaming and screaming for Hank to help him, to help Charles.

The Blood from his nose was running over his lips and down his chin, dripping onto Charles' forehead. The blood was too red against the deathly pale skin.

Charles was not breathing. His pulse was fading.

Erik was sure had never been more afraid.

... __

 _"He is not breathing, he is not breathing! Hank you have to help him!"_

Erik stared down on the pale face, his lips a firm line and his posture stiff. His hands were clasped and his shoulders hunched. The sunlight through the window was a dim gold, the sun was setting already.

Charles was awake, his blue eyes half-lidded and glassy. His breath was shallow. _"He has a fever."_ Hank had said. _"He needs some rest now."_

Erik took a deep breath as he ran a hand through his ruffled hair. Everything is alright, he told himself because his heart was still pounding wildly in his chest. He's okay now..

God, he had been so afraid. The mere thought of losing Charles...  
 _  
"What happened?"_ Erik had asked as he stared down on Charles' unconscious body. _"What happened, why did he panic?"_

Hank had sighed, running a blue paw over his face as he sat down. _"Something must have reminded him. Maybe a voice, maybe the appearance of a man...It has caused a panic attack. But he should be alright now. We need to be careful though. Such a panic attack is really exhausting for a body, and Charles is still not fully recovered."_  
 _  
"Of course."_ Erik had whispered, guilt gnawing at his guts. He should have been more careful...If Charles hadn't seen the news then he wouldn't have panicked and then...

 _"Just be more careful."_ Hank had smiled tiredly, putting a paw on Erik's shoulder. _"And don't worry too much. He will be alright again."_ " __He kept saying that, that Charles would be alright, but Erik began to doubt it; Charles was so fragile, so vulnerable, and technically everything could possibly lead to a breakdown...If they would only know what was going on inside his head, what he was thinking...

Erik let out a heavy sigh as he leaned forward to brush away a strand of wavy brown hair which stuck to Charles' sweaty forehead; Charles blinked, his chest raising and falling slowly. Erik smiled, tried to smile.

 _"His powers...I think they were out of control as he had the panic attack."_

Hank had looked up, his eyebrow were raised. _"Yeah...I have expected something like this."_

"But-" Erik had begun as he sat down on the next best chair. _"It was different this time. There was...A gleam around him. He was glowing in a blue light."_

Hank had tilted his head and had furrowed his brow. _"A shimmer, you say?"_

Erik had nodded.

 _"Well, that's new...The power of telekinesis is invisible, there shouldn't be any light or gleam..."_

Erik had watched the boy as he walked to the window. He had seemed very serious. _"Do you know what it means?"_

Hank had nodded slowly. _"I have a theory, but I am not quite sure."_

"Meow!"

Erik looked up to see the cat staring at him; it was curled up next to Charles' feet, its green eyes staring. It was always staring at him, this cat, staring with such reproachful eyes. As if to protect Charles...

"I am sorry." Erik said, his voice low. He wasn't even sure for what exactly he was sorry for, neither to whom he had said these words; maybe to Charles, maybe to the cat. If it just would stop to stare at him...

Charles took a shaky breath, his left hand reaching upwards to slid over Erik's right hand, which lay on the red duvet cover; his blue eyes were still glassy due the fever, and Erik was sure that Charles was not aware of what he was doing. _Has to be a febrile delirium...Otherwise he would not touch me._

The cat meowed.

Charles was still so pale, so ill-looking, and his frame so so small in the big bed. Erik was not sure if Charles had always looked so fragile and small.

Those big blue eyes watched him tiredly.

He is always so tired, Erik thought as he clasped their hands. Always so exhausted...Charles' hand was hot, his long fingers digging into the back of Erik's hand.

Was he still afraid?

What did he see?

Where was he?

The cat meowed again, a long and wailing meow.

Erik took a deep breathe, trying to steady his breathing, then he smiled down on Charles who eyed him with his weary, glassy eyes. His lower lip was trembling.

"My My....What a day, hm?" Erik chuckled quietly, his hand squeezing Charles' slightly. Charles took a slow and shallow breath through his parted lips; at least there was a bit color in them now.  "You should rest now. I...think that will help you."

 _Idiot!_ His mind yelled, _Nightmares! They will come and haunt him! No_...No, they would not. Erik would ask Hank to give him sleeping pills.

"Please Charles...Never...Never do that again." And he knew his voice was broken and raspy. He didn't only look like a wreck, he felt like one as well.

Charles blinked, taking another shallow breath.

Of course Charles could not control his panic attacks, it was not his fault, but Erik had been so afraid...

The cat meowed again and a paw hit Erik's hand; the claws left bloody scratches on the back of his hand, causing Erik to hiss and glare at the cat. It stared back with its green eyes. Erik was sure it was snarling.

Charles sighed, his left hand came up to scratch the cat behind its ear. The cat purred happily, all the while staring at Erik.

Charles was watching the cat now, his chest rising and falling slowly with every breath. The circles under his eyes were dark, his hair was tousled and his cheeks red with the fever. His hand was trembling.  
 _  
"The fever should wear off soon. His body is probably just overreacting."_

Erik stayed in the room until Hank came. After that he left the room quietly while Hank was talking to Charles, his voice calm. _Encouragingly..._

It was like talking to a frightened child.

The corridor was dim lit, the windows open. A soft breeze was blowing the curtains. The air was warm. Soon it would be summer.

Erik had his hands in the pockets of his pants as he walked to his room. He was nearly in front of his door as Raven's door opened. The blue-skinned girl looked at him, sorrow and self-blame in her yellow eyes. They seemed to glow in the darkness, those eyes...

"How is he?" she asked, her voice low, full of concern.

"He will be alright." Erik answered, his voice steady. "Hank said the fever will wear off soon."

Raven nodded, relief in her face. "Okay...." she breated, but lowered her head. "It is my fault....I...I was hungry and left him alone...I though he would go outside...I am sorry."

Erik was not sure if he should be angry at her, or if he should pity her. Of course it was her fault, but she was blaming herself enough already.  "It was stupid." He admitted, his voice calm but not cold. "It was a mistake that everyone of us could have made. Don't blame yourself too much. He will be alright." He added the last words with a small smile.

"I just hope he gets better." Raven answered quietly, her head still bowed. The poor girl. It must be hard for her.

Though,it was hard for all of them.

"Don't worry too much, Mystique." Raven looked up as he used her real name, her mutant name. "I will do everything in my power to help him."

She looked at him, her face unreadable, but eventually her lips turned into a small smile. "I know. And I believe in you, Erik."

Erik smiled, but this time his smile was a tone darker. "It's Magneto." She said nothing, just nodded. She seemed to understand.

They both went into their rooms after that.

Erik stood there, in his room. The grayish light from outside was barely enough to illuminate it; the dark wood of the walls and the dark carpet were to blame.

The helmet on the nightstand was reflecting the dim light of the setting sun.

He needed to know what was going on inside Charles' head.

He needed to know what he was thinking, what he was seeing.

Charles wouldn't cooperate, he was too frightened, too stubborn, _too childlike._

 _A childlike mind..._

Therefore he would need someone else to help him.

 _Another telepath._

And he was sure he already knew where he would find one.

Normally he would never even consider it; normally he would respect Charles' privacy just like Charles respected his, but this time it was different. This time it was under different circumstances.

Erik's mouth turned into a grim line as he walked to the bedside table and took the helmet in his hands. The metal was cold and smooth under his fingers.

 _The hellfire club is calling._


	11. Visiting the Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naah, sorry for the long wait! Here is a new update! See it as a late christmas present ;D Happy New Year to you as well.  
> Hope U like this chappy.

_Wenn auf der ganzen Welt Liebe herrschte,  
wären alle Gesetze entbehrlich...  
_(Aristoteles)

 **Chapter 10**

 _The room was dim lit, the light of the nightstands and the fire of the fireplace were the only source of light._

 _They were playing chess, again._

 _Erik turned his face towards the open window; the dark curtains moved slowly in a breeze of cold air. There was snow outside, and it was still snowing. Some lost snowflakes were carried into the room, but they were immediately melting on the warm wooden floor._

 _The fire in the fireplace was as dim as the light of the lamps, barely luminiferous but warm._

 _The fireworks could be heard in the distance._

 _"It is your turn now, Erik."_

 _Erik turned his attention back to the chessboard and Charles; Charles was sitting across from him, his legs crossed and his hands folded on his left knee. His head was tilted and his too blue eyes were sparkling in the shadow of his face, eyeing him with a curious expression. He wore his favourite black vest and one of his white shirts, and in the light of the fire his skin had a cream-colored hue._

 _"Erik?" Charles' voice held an amused undertone as the telepath eyed his friend with a smirk on his too red lips. "Are you distracted?"_

 _Of course he was distracted, always distracted by Charles, but he would never admit it willingly. Though, he was sure that Charles knew it anyway. ._

 _"Me?Hm...Maybe." His gaze turned back to the open window. He could see the purple light of a firework. "It's the new year already..." He knew Charles and the kids for half a year now. It was still weird for him, to have something like a family.  He was wary, because nothing could be as perfect as it was now...Something would happen, he was sure.._

 _"Erik? Hey, I am talking to you." Something tugged at the sleeve of his green pullover; it was Charles, who had leaned forward over the chessboard._

 _"I am sorry." Erik sighed and turned around "What did you say?"_

 _Charles chuckled, glad to have Erik's attention once again."I've said; don't fall into a depression, dear, because the new year will bring us something great."_

 _Erik raised one eyebrow as he leaned forward, now nose to nose with Charles who watched him with his unnaturally blue eyes. Erik was sure they were glowing on their own accord. Maybe it was part of Charles' mutation....?_

 _"Why so sure about that?" The metal-bender asked._

 _The telepath sighed as his eyes curved upwards with his smile. "Intuition." The young man purred and Erik was a bit startled because he had never heard him purr. "The cat of yours has a high effect on your manner of expression."_

 _That made Charles laugh. "No, that was my own idea." He leaned back, but not before giving Erik's nose a nudge with his index-finger; he was teasing, something that Charles was very good at._

 _Erik smirked as he leaned further towards Charles. Some pawns fell to the floor, landing there with a low thud. One of them was rolling over the floor and under the bed._

 _"Erik, the pawns!" Charles' gasped, playing shocked, his eyes following the rolling pawns._

 _"Metal." was Erik's answer as his nose touched Charles' once again. Charles eyes were wide, but Erik knew he was playing on of his little games; Charles surley wasn't shocked, he never was, and he was not afraid, not of Erik. "I am sure you're able to remember their exact position on the chessboard." Erik grinned as he moved his lips to Charles', barely touching them with his own. "If you would want to." His lips moved against the telepath's lips. He could feel Charles' shaky breath, and chuckled.  
   
"If I could.." Charles corrected him, his right hand moving upwards to grasp the collar of Erik's pullover. "But sadly I feel a bit...distracted..." He trailed off, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick over Erik's lower lip. His blue eyes were wide open, giving Erik an innocent gaze as he smiled a sugar-sweet smile._

 _Bastard, Erik thought, grinning. He was sure Charles had heard him._

 _"That's my line to say." Charles laughed. A warm laughter, warmer than the fire in the fireplace, which filled Erik's chest with...love..._

 _"That's right, Erik..."Charles whispered, his left hand caressing Erik's cheek. "It's love..."_

 _Yes,it was love._

 _They stumbled to their feet, walking towards the bed, kissing as if they were afraid to let go of another. Charles hands had a tight grip on the fabric of Erik's pullover, pulling him towards the bed. The back of the telepath's knees hit the edge of the bed, making them both fall backwards on the soft sheets. Charles laughed, his laugh vibrating in his chest._

 _"It's four o'clock in the morning" Charles panted, letting go of Erik's pullover to smooth his hair back behind his ear. "And?" Erik asked, kissing Charles' jaw and the crook of his neck while Charles chuckled, squirming under Erik's body; he was ticklish and Erik knew it._

 _"I don't-" He stopped, chuckling again as he tried to push Erik away; it was an half-hearted attempt to free himself because actually Charles loved what Erik was doing to him._

 _It was always like this, there was always a small struggle, but in the end they had sex anyway._

 _"I don't think that sex at this time is a good idea because-" He took in a sharp breath of air as Erik's hands found their way under his vest and shirt, running over his chest. "Because..Because.." He tried to find a reason, but obviously it was hard for him to concentrate on his thoughts._

 _Hard, literally._

 _Erik grinned against the skin of Charles' neck while Charles tugged at the hem of his pullover. "You're a mean, mean boyfriend, my dear." Charles huffed, pouting. Of course he was not really pouting, he enjoyed this far too much._

 _"I know." Erik mumbled. Their lips met in a fierce kiss, their tongues battling for dominance. Charles tasted of Scotch, no wonder, since they had been drinking Scotch while playing chess. Erik asked himself if they really had been playing chess, or if it had been a forplay. Somehow they had never managed to finish their chess games without kissing or sucking each other._

 _Charles' skin was soft, smooth under Erik's hands as they moved up and down the sides of the telepath's torso. Charles hummed, his hands trying to get rid of Erik's pullover, which was not as easy as he had believed._

 _Somehow they managed to get rid of their clothes, even if it was a real battle. Erik loved the look of Charles, when his cheeks were flushed, his breath heavy and his hair all tousled. Erik was sure he himself looked the same, but he certainly wasn't as flushed as Charles. And Charles eyes...They were half-lidded, dark, glassy, his pupils blown._

 _There was a grin on Charles' too red lips as he leaned upwards to kiss Erik. "Make love to me." His voice was low and solemn as his hand found its way into Erik's hair, twisting the strands of soft brown hair around his fingers._

 _"All the night long?" The metal-bender asked with the same amused undertone, his hand sliding over Charles' collarbone. His milky-white skin was so much softer than Erik's, but that's no wonder; Erik's life had been a lot rougher than Charles', and it had left its scars. Though, there are scars on Charles' soft skin as well, but they were not as deep and red as Erik's. Erik loved the barely visible freckles on the white skin; during summer they covered most of the scars._

 _Charles laughed, leaning his forehead against Erik's. "I really would love to do that, but I don't think that either of us has enough stamina to go through a night full of sex."_

 _Erik hummed, placing a soft kiss on Charles' hair. "Love doesn't necessarily mean sex."_

 _Charles raised his head to look into Erik's eyes. A soft smile spread across his red lips. "That, of course, is true."_

 _And then they made love._

 _Erik began to kiss Charles, every bit of him, every inch of skin he could reach while his hands stroke along his chest, over Charles' nipple and further down. Charles was panting, his fingers dancing over Erik's back, over the scars and muscles while his legs wrapped around Erik's waist._

 _Erik could not tell how long they went on like this, kissing each other, sliding their hands over their skin, but at some point this simply wasn't enough anymore._

 _"Do it, Erik." Charles was panting, his lips open and even more red. He would not say ' fuck me', because Charles was still the English gentleman who refused to say such words. He tried hard not to beg, but even Charles Xavier had to beg some times; he was stubborn, but he knew when to give in._

 _He wanted something, and he knew he had to beg for it because he knew that Erik loved hearing him beg for it. And so he added, with wide blue eyes, "Please." with such a soft, pleading voice that Erik simply couldn't say no._

 _He couldn't wait any longer._

 _It didn't take long for him to prepare Charles. He opened him up with one, two, three vaseline coated fingers. All the while Charles' mental voice almost begged Erik to finally go on, his head full of the word 'please' and Erik's name; he was babbling, he always was when he was totally into it, and his hands had a tight grip on Erik's shoulders. Erik could feel the frantic beat of Charles' heart and the soft puff of air against his skin._

 _Charles was so impatient when it came to sex; he was eager, always eager to have all of Erik. Sometimes Erik asked himself why Charles was so hungry for love. Probably because he never really had someone before Erik, maybe because he had missed the love of his parents, maybe because he was a person who needed attention and love like food and air to breath._

 _They both groaned as Erik pushed into him, Erik because of the tight heat and Charles because he was stretched and filled. Charles was now clinging to him as if he was afraid that Erik would leave him._

 _"I love you, I love you..." He mumbled while pressing himself against Erik, their skin sticky with sweat. "Hng, Erik, my Erik.." He always talked a lot, also in bed, but Erik did not mind; in fact it only made him smile. Erik,on the other hand, was more the quiet one in bed. Of course he moaned and gasped as well, but he never talked as much as Charles did. Well, that was probably because his mouth was busy with doing other things than forming words._

 _His lips moved to Charles neck, kissing and sucking while he thrusted into the smaller body beneath him. Charles met every thrust of his hips with a jerk of his own, his fingernails digging into Erik's skin. "Ahhh!" Charles arched up as Erik found his sweet spot. "Ahh, please, Erik-" he tried to find words, but he seemed to have lost the ability to speak, making it difficult to articulate, let alone form proper sentences. And so he was begging, begging for something, begging Erik to go harder and faster but without saying it. He wouldn't dare. Though, sometimes even he couldn't hold back._

 _"Hn, Erik, faster!"_

 _Erik chuckled, trying to fulfill Chares' wish; his hands were digging into the soft skin of Charles hips as he began to pick up speed, and he was sure his hands would leave bruises. Neither of them really cared about that._

 _Charles' arms wrapped themselves around Erik's neck, his breath hot against Erik's cheek as he licked over his skin, panting and gasping Erik's name while Erik kissed his neck._

 _He could feel Charles' feelings for him, could feel the love, could feel what he was feeling while Erik was thrusting into him. Charles' telepathy was always out of control when they had sex, but that was probably because Charles was too busy with being focused on the pleasure than on his mental shields. But, maybe he also wanted to give Erik something, maybe he wanted to show him how much he was enjoying this, how much he loved him._

 _"Ah..Ahah.." Charles' arms tightened around Erik's neck, pulling Charles closer to Erik's body as he pushed his hips down. The air was thick, their bodies sticky with sweat, their hair tousled. Charles' hair stuck to his forehead, the lids of his blue eyes fluttering with every thrust. He was panting heavily while he pressed his forehead into the crook of Erik's neck. "Don't stop, don't , don't..." He mumbled. Of course Erik would not stop, he hadn't even slowed down, but Charles was always talking, no matter about what, and so he talked nonsense since he couldn't find any words that made sense._

 _The light of the fire was dim, too dim to lit up their faces. The light of the lamps had been switched off minutes, if not even hours, ago. Erik could see Charles' face, but he was not sure if Charles could really see his face, since he was leaning over Charles with his back to the fireplace._

 _The light in the room was now grayish blue, Charles' white skin almost silver in the light of the moon. It was still snowing, and the wind carried the snowflakes into the room and onto Erik's back, but they were quickly melting, barely touching his skin._

 _Charles always looked so vulnerable when he lay beneath Erik, his legs around Erik's waist, his hair spread on the pillow, his lips even redder due the kissing ,parted to gasp for air, and his beautiful eyes half-lidded and glassy with lust. Erik knew that Charles was not fragile, and certainly not vulnerable ,but he loved this sight. He never could get enough of it, and Charles knew that._

 _Charles let himself fall back against the pillow, his spine arched off the bed as he placed his hands on Erik's shoulders. "Ahh..I-I am close..." He panted, eyelids fluttering as he bit his lower lip to keep himself from moaning out even louder. He was moaning loud, always, and Erik could remember the flushed cheeks of Charles as he mentioned it once during breakfast with the kids. Mental, of course._

 _"I am not a slut." Was what Charles had answered, indignant, blushing because he was angry and embarrassed, but Erik was sure he had heard an amused undertone in Charles' angry voice. "No." Erik had answered. "You are my adorable lab rat."_

 _But still Charles was sounding like a whore during their times in bed, and Erik couldn't help but love those sounds he made; the gasps, the moans, the whimpering...Everything. Charles would still refuse to admit that he made those sounds during sex, but Erik knew that Charles himself knew very well that he made those sounds. He was simply to embarrassed to admit it, because Charles Francis Xavier never moaned or groaned for anyone, he was far too proud, and arrogant, to do that. Well, but with Erik he couldn't hold it back._

 _And he did it again, this time, moaning and groaning while his cheeks were flushed._

 _Erik couldn't tell who came first, but he could remember that he groaned and leaned down on his elbows, which were placed on either side of Charles' head; Charles, who was panting heavily as if he'd run miles, his eyes closed and his mouth open, his fingers tangled in the sheets of the bed. The blush was slowly fading but still to be seen. Erik smlied as he brushed away a stubborn brown curl and placed a soft kiss on Charles' open lips._

 _Charles smiled softly as his hand brushed over Erik's cheek. "Happy New Year, Erik." He mumbled, sounding tired. No wonder, it was around five o'clock in the morning._

 _"Happy New Year to you too, Charles." Erik whispered._

 _Somehwere in the distance the firework was still to be heard.  
_  
It was such a wonderful moment, such a wonderful memory.

Erik could remember Charles face, every inch of it, the smile, the bright blue eyes, the too red lips, the dark, tousled hair and the milky-white skin, which had been soft under his fingers. He could remember every pant, every groan, he could remember the smell and the love he had felt. Everything.

But, this memory began to changed, began to form into another scene, a scene that wasn't beautiful, a scene which wasn't full of love, no.

 _Suddenly it wasn't the evening of the first of January 1963, suddenly it was another night..._

 _They still were in Charles' room, it was night, late at night, the lights were dim, the windows closed; he was sitting on the bed, next to Charles, Charles who was broken and whimpering, not because of pleasure but because of pain. The bed, in which they had been lying so many times before, was red with blood._

 _Charles clothes were blood-soaked and nearly torn._

 _It was Charles' blood._

 _It was the same room, but not the same memory._

 _And Charles' breath was shallow and heavy, his body was trembling, and there was so much pain in his dull eyes, dark eyes... There was blood on his face, on his too pale skin, his lips red with his own blood, his right hand pressed to his chest. He was coughing up blood, his nose was bleeding._

 _He was not crying. He was not doing anything. He just lay there, broken and bleeding, his body trembling with pain and the aftershock of the incident._

 _Those lovely blue eyes looked right through him.  
   
His hair was sticky with sweat and blood.  
_  
It would never be the same, never like it once had been...

 _Yeah...Happy New Year..._

"Sir?" Erik was pulled out of his memories as the driver leaned back towards him. "We are there."

Erik cleared his throat and nodded.

Las Vegas.

The Hellfire Club.  
...

 _Ein Tropfen Liebe ist mehr als ein Ozean Verstand..._  
(Blaise Pascal)

...

The Hellfire Club was an ostentatious place, obvious something for people who loved attention. The walls were covered with dark red wallpaper, the floor was of white marble and there was golden stucco and decoration everywhere. The hallway was lit by large electronic chandeliers.

A lot of people hurried along the corridor, mostly seminude women dressed in pretty bras,  panties or short skirts. The heels of their boots echoed in the hallway.

Some of the women gave him a quick glance, their eyebrows raised, whispering behind raised hands. Erik ignored them and continued to walk with steady steps towards the end of the hallway. He had no clue were Frost could be, because he had never been in the Hellfire Club before. His cape waved behind him and the light was reflected by his helmet. His face was grim, his eyes cold under the shadows of his helmet.

"Hey!" Erik turned around as one well-dressed man, who was dressed in a tuxedo, walked towards him.  "What are you doing here?!" There was a heavy emphasis on the word 'you'.

Oh,so, someone did recognize...

"I am searching for Frost." Erik replied as he continued to walk down the hallway. The white of the floor made the light too garish for his eyes.

"The White Queen is busy!" Oh, so that was her new name...

So, his instincts hadn't fooled him; Frost had been able to escape the CIA. She was a bitch, but he had to admit that she knew how to manipulate people. Though, Erik was sure that her appearance was to blame for her success; she was a telepath, but she wasn't as strong as Charles. Telepathy was only her second mutation.

"I don't care if she's busy or not." Erik answered, his eyes flying over the doors. They all were dark brown double doors with golden door door handles. "I can't allow you to visit her!" The man grabbed him by his arm, trying to stop him.

Erik growled as he turned around to face the man.  "Then go and tell her that Magneto needs to speak to her- immediately!"

The man started at him, his brown eyes widened as he gasped. "But-"

"Hurry up! I am waiting." Erik yanked his arm out of the man's grip and walked towards one of the ornate chairs with red upholstery, which stood at the wall next to one of the double doors. An ugly green flower was placed to its other side.

The man stood there, gaping at him, but then he turned around and walked down the corridor. Erik sat down on the chair, waiting. He didn't have to wait long; the man returned after five minutes, his face a nervous mask.

"Please follow me, Sir."

Erik stood up and followed the man without thinking twice; this was for Charles, there was no time to think about anything but him right now. Erik had to do this.

He was led up a stairway of red stairs. The banister was made of pure gold, and Erik silently asked himself who could, and would, afford something useless like this. Normal metal would have been enough.

They went along a small corridor. The light was much dimmer, the walls a dark brown and the floor a deep red. There were curtains and transparent veils at the walls, but they were of no use. Probably they were meant to create a feeling of security and warmth but to Erik it looked more like a brothel than anything else. There was a lot of golden stucco at the ceiling and the window frame of the crossbar windows was made of bronze. It simply was too much of everything, it looked rather fake. But, Erik was sure that this was exactly what the founder of the Hellfire Club had had in mind; this Hellfire Club was just a big and rich fake society...

They stopped in front of a large wooden door at the end of the hallway. The door was black, the door handle silver. Somehow this door had something very cold, Erik could almost feel the coldness behind the door. He was sure he could see his breath im front of his face, but that was just his imagination.

The man gave Erik a nod, his eyes serious as he bowed and left the corridor without saying another word.

Erik stood in front of the door, taking a deep breath as he laid his hand on the cool steel of the door handle. He could feel the metal under his fingers as if it belonged to him.

Actually he really didn't want to go into the room behind the doors, his whole body tried to resist, but he had to face Frost. It was for Charles... But, what would he ask her to do? What could she actually do for Charles?

This was dangerous, she was dangerous, but Erik was far more dangerous.

The metal-bender pushed down the door handle and entered the room behind the black door.

The room behind the door was big. It had white walls and a red carpeted floor.

There was a large white sofa in the middle of the room and a bar counter right behind it. There was an amount of alcohol in the glass shelves of the bar.

The room itself was lit by one of the big electric chandeliers; it was decorated with glass splinters which hung like diamond drops from the arms of the chandelier.

"What do you want, Lehnsherr." A casual, almost bored, female voice spoke. Erik turned to the right corner of the room; Emma Frost, the White Queen, sat in front of large dressing table, on a white chair which looked more like a throne than a chair. The table itself had a large mirror, and the glass surface of the table was barely visible under the boxes of make-up and beauty products. Frost was brushing her hair with a brush, her back was turned to Erik while she admired her mirror image. She did not seem to be surprised that he had come to visit her, neither was she scared. Maybe she had foreseen his comming, maybe she had known that he would visit her some day. She was not stupid, she must have known that he wouldn't leave her be.

They still had a score to settle.

Erik was sure that she was scared of him, after all he had nearly killed her once, but she played the cold bitch once more, the only role that she was capable to play in front of others. Maybe because she was a coldhearted bitch, but Erik really didn't care if she had feelings or not; she was cold as diamond but the only telepath nearby. And, honestly, who cared about emotions? He just needed her telepathy, not her condolence.

"Don't think I'll offer you a seat, or a drink. You are not my guest, but I assume you don't want to drink anything anyway." She turned around in her chair, facing Erik; her eyes were cold, blue but not as blue as Charles', and her platinum blonde dyed hair plus her white clothes made her face pale and her eyes even sharper.

Erik said nothing as Emma sighed and stood up. She walked to the sofa and dropped down onto it. "A wonderful sofa, isn't it?" She leaned back, resting her arms on the backrest of the white sofa as she smiled up at Erik. It was a cold smile. "I see you've kept the helmet? A nice souvenir."

Erik didn't comment on that, in fact he stayed quiet as he walked up to the sofa; it was not his intent to start an argument or a fight. He was here because of Charles, because he needed Frost's help. She was probably the only one who could allow them, him, a glance inside Charles' mind.

"I need your help."

Emma blinked, then she raised one eyebrow; apparently she had not expected that he would say something like this. "My help?" She asked, humor swinging in her voice as she wrinkelt er nose. "You, Erik Lehnsherr-"

"Magneto." He interrupted her, his eyes glowing dangerously under his helmet. "For you it is Magneto."

"Fine." She snorted, pushing her hair behind her shoulder. " _You_ , Magneto, the self-proclaimed saviour of us mutants, want _my_ help?" She laughed, but her face stayed a cold mask. "What on earth makes you believe that I would consider about helping you in the first place?"

Erik had known that she would ask this question, and, yes, why should she help him? She had no reason to help him, and Emma Frost always needed a reason to do something, a reward, even if it was just her own satisfaction about something like causing pain with her telepathy or a nice new ring on her finger. For her it was always about her own needs, about her own interests, and if Emma Frost was not interested then she wouldn't lift a finger. She wanted a reward, and if there was no reward then there was no Frost.

"Well.." Erik said as he sat down on the sofa, facing Emma, who watched him with narrowed eyes. "Of course I could say you owe me something. After all I've spared your life..." He trailed of and he could see Emma's body tense. Ah, so she could remember their little encounter.. "But I know that it would be of no use to force you to go with me because you have to." Erik leaned back, a cold smile on his lips. "I know that you wouldn't cooperate with me if I'd try to force you, and you would probably try to betray, or worse, kill me."

Emma shifted around on her place on the sofa; she was nervous, Erik could read her body language like an open book, but she tried to stay calm and collected. "So, what is your plan of convincing me?" She asked, her voice steady without a hint of fear or curiosity.

"There is no plan." Erik answered. She was stunned, he could she it at the way she raised both of her thin eyebrows. "I have nothing to offer." He continued. "Just a place at my side while we fight the humans. I have no money for you, nor jewelry. I know that you always need a reason to do something, that you want a reward, but I have none. All I can give you is the promise to stay out of your way, the promise not to harm you as long as you won't harm us. Else there is nothing that I could give."

She snorted as she raised her head to look at Erik from underneath her eyelashes, which were painted blue. "Tell me why."

Oh, smart Emma, she knew that, if she agreed, she would be safe. Safe from Erik, at least. He was a man who held his words, he wouldn't deceive her, and she knew it. She was safe, and would be safe, if she agreed. He wouldn't kill her if she said no, but it would definitely be better for her to agree. "Tell me what you want from me, and why, and I might consider it."

Erik let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, then he nodded. "I need your telepathy." He answered calmly, but his heart was pounding in his chest. If she said no, what if she said no... He was glad to have the helmet, because otherwise she would have known that he was afraid, afraid that she would say no. "There was...an incident.." He cleared his throat. Emma watched him patiently. "Long story short, Charles is not the same anymore, and I need your telepathy to have a look inside his mind so that I can see what is going on inside his head."

Emma looked at him for a long time, and Erik was sure he could actually see emotions in her cold eyes. "You want to repair him, his mind." She said it in a casual tone, but there was a hint of...disgust? Maybe because she knew that Charles was unable to decide whether this would be okay or not. Erik was sure he himself would have been disgusted about the idea of going into another's mind without their permission to repair it, to fix something that had been broken by others without knowing if it was the best idea to fix what had been broken, without knowing if it would cause further damage, but this time it was different...

"Yes." He answered. Somehow he felt the need to apologize for his demand, but this was for Charles' well being...

Of course he could have asked Charles, should have asked him, but Charles would have refused to let anyone inside his head. He was not in his right mind, was not able to decide whether it was the right decision or not.

Maybe he should have told Raven something about his plans, but she would have tried to stop him. She didn't like Emma, neither did Erik, but sometimes the help of your enemy is your only way to solve problems.

Emma stared at him, but then she shrugged her shoulders as if to say 'if you think that's right'.

"You do know that it is dangerous?" She asked instead of saying anything about Charles. He nodded. Of course it was dangerous, after all this was Charles' mind. Charles, the most powerful telepath on earth. It was like running unarmed into a cave full of armed soldiers. Charles mind was a weapon itself, and he could easily kill them all with just one thought. "You know it won't be easy, especially because he is a telepath?"

Of course it was dangerous to enter Charles' mind without his permission.

Of course they wouldn't leave it without being hurt.

Of course Charles would try to get them out.

Erik was well aware how dangerous it was to enter Charles' mind.

"You know that he will fight us if we try to enter his mind? And you know that we could cause further damage to his already damaged mind?"

Damaged mind...Broken...Poor Charles, they were talking about him as if he was a broken plaything that had to be repaired.

Emma hissed and shook her head. Her blonde hair waved around her head like a white vail. "This is suicide. Charles Xavier is one of the stronges telepath I've ever met, and he could easily pulverize our brains, so why on earth should I try to repair him if he doesn't even manage to repair himself? Why should I risk my life for someone that I barely know?"

Yes, why...?

"Because I beg you."

There was silence in the room.

Erik closed his eyes as he continued. "Charles can't fix himself because it hurts too much. He is not capable to do much at the moment, and he has not used his telepathy since that incident. He is weak, Frost, broken, and he won't be a big deal for you. His mental shields are mostly likely broken or cracked, so it won't be difficult for you to enter his mind. Of course he will try to fight us, but he won't be able to kill us. Besides that, he would never kill anyone."

He didn't mention Charles' mental breakdowns and the loss of control over his powers that they had caused. He had to convince Emma, and he wouldn't convince her if he told her about the true power that Charles possessed, or about the fact that she could die. Emma loved her own life far to much to risk it for someone like Charles.

Emma liked to be treated as if she was something important, someone important, as if she was seriously needed.  Erik would tell her what she wanted to hear, that she was stronger than Charles, at the moment, so that she would think that she was needed, that Erik needed her, and then she would feel satisfied, a reason to help Erik.

The simple thought that Erik Lehnsherr, Magneto, the man who was about to lead a war, the man who was unbreakable, that he could be on her mercy, made her smirk.

"Please, Emma." Erik said, but she hushed him wih one raised hand in the air.

"For you-" She smiled cooly. "It's Frost, or White Queen. We are still not befriended. Just because I'm going to help you with the little telepath of yours doesn't mean I'll stay with you and your...'family'."

Erik's heart skiped a beat. She would help him, she would help him, Charles would be alright...

"Though, you have to remember that I am not able to fulfill miracles." Her voice was stern and for one split second Erik was sure she had been reading his mind. "And remember, I am not doing  this because I have pity for him, or you. I just do this because I am tired of this Club." She smiled as she stood up. "And because I know that there is no one else you could ask."

Arrogant bitch.

Erik stood up as well, a cold smile on his lips as he bowed gracefully. "Of course." Surely she had heard the sarcasm in his voice, but to his surprise she said nothing.

He straightened up and his eyes met hers; they weren't as cold as they had been at the beginning, but still there was this dislike in them.

"I am helping you because I know what you are able to achive." She said, her voice smooth, almost warm. "This is for my own benefit. I don't want the humans to win this war just because you're mourning about the lack of your... _telepath_."

And suddenly Erik was sure that Emma Frost had a heart, that she was hiding her emotions behind a shell of diamond, and that she wasn't as coldhearted as she let everyone believe. It was probably her kind of way to prevent being hurt.

"This will be dangerous, Lehnsherr." She warned him once more as they walked down the hallway.

"I know." He answered, once again.

But it was worth it, it all was worth it, because it was for Charles.

"You know, he will ruin you." Erik raised one eyebrow as he turned his head towards Emma. She wore a white fur coat over her outfit, though Erik was not sure if it was real fur or fake, and Erik was thankfully for that because she really looked like a slut with her white bra and high boots.

"What do you mean?" His voice was harsh, maybe a bit too harsh, because Emma smiled knowingly.

"Because-" She said, and her voice was cold and smooth, casually. "Because love has ruined a lot of men, and your love to Xavier will ruin you as soon as you start to be more worried about the well being of Xavier than about the mutants who'll fight as soldiers for you, in your war."

He did not stumble and he did not falter, neither he did he stop, nor did he make any sound. His face was an emotionless mask as he turned his head back towards the hallway in front of them.

"Why do you assume that I do love him?" He asked, his voice flat.

Emma chuckled. "Oh dear, believe me, I've seen enough men in love."

"That doesn't say anything about my relationship to Charles."

Emma chuckled again, shaking her head. "I don't know you very well, nor do I know anything about Xavier, but I know that you would have never asked for my help if it wasn't because you love him."

Erik snorted as they walked past a group of half-naked women. "He is a telepath, and useful to me. Maybe that's why I want you to help him?"

Emma sighed. "No. No, then you would have found another way, or you would have wanted me to stay at your side to be sure that I can replace him if something goes wrong. I know you do love him, Lehnsherr, but that' s not my business. I'll do what I can do for your little lover, but don't strangle me if something goes wrong."

Erik said nothing as they walk out of the Hellfire Club. It was raining, small drops drumming on Erik's helmet. Frost cursed because of her hair and her coat, which were wet in mere minutes.

It surprised him that Emma knew about his love to Charles. She wasn't stupid, this Frost..

"Do you have a car?" Emma asked as they stood on the sidewalk in front of the Club.

"No." And that was true. He had taken a taxi.

"Well, then we'll have to take mine." Emma huffed, walking past Erik down the sidewalk.

He followed her.

In his mind he was already back at the mansion, next to Charles' side.

Everything would be alright.

Frost would be able to fix him, they could help him.

And, Erik wouldn't let her do this alone, no, he was far to wary to let Emma inside Charles head without anyone to watch her.

He had planned it, over and over again, and it would work.

He would go dive into Charles' mind together with Emma.

 _Don't worry, Charles,_ Erik thought as he followed Emma down the sidewalk. _I will help you. You will be alright again._

It was his fault, after all, because he hadn't stopped Charles.

Yes, Erik Lehnsherr was sure he could fix what had been broken by the humans.

It wouldn't be that easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HoHo,I know I am not that good in writing sex scenes, but I felt like writing some Cherik after all this drama stuff here D:  
> I hope you enjoyed it anyway.  
> Uh, and of course Erik didn't drive all the way from New York to Las Vegas xD I think he took the plane or...was flying..I mean, c'mon, he's Magneto after all xD!
> 
> Translation:
> 
> Wenn auf der ganzen Welt Liebe herrschte, wären alle Gesetze entbehrlich - All laws were all dispensable if love would rule the world.
> 
> Ein Tropfen Liebe ist mehr als ein Ozean Verstand - One drop of love is more than an ocean of intellect.


	12. Back Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, had to live through the last episode of Sherlock (emotional overkill) and the latest chapter (32) of Nine Eleven Ten (OOOMGGG!). I was (still I am ) emotionally fucked up, so...Sorry for the long wait^^"  
> The lyrics I've taken are not the full lyrics of the songs. I've just chosen the parts which fit the chapter the most.

_"You live in a darkness  
Made out of your fear_

 _Your world is in danger  
But your world isn't real_

 _You see what is imagined  
Dreaming what you feel..."_

 _(I am by Joseph Arthur)_

 **Chapter 11**

Actually, the cat had never been given a proper name, and it still did not have one - officially.

For Charles it was named Sharon. He thought it suited her, and the cat didn't seem to mind.

For the others it was just 'the cat', because they hadn't been able to find a name that everyone liked.

Charles could remember that Sean would have liked to name it 'Blacky' but Raven had been strictly against this name. Charles had never ask her why. She had said something about "Wouldn't want to be called 'Bluey' either."

The sun was warm on Charles' skin, even if it wasn't really on his skin; he was moving around with his mental-body again, closely followed by Sharon, who had nothing better to do than following him anyway.

The grass was soft under his bare feet and he smiled absently. He had never bothered to walk on grass without his shoes to feel the soft grass tickling his feet, but it felt really nice. He never had done this as child; his mother wouldn't allow him to run around with bare feet, and Kurt wouldn't allow him to go outside at all. But, sometimes Charles had sneaked outside, together with Raven. They had been caught, once, and after that they had never tried to do it again. Kurt had made sure of that.

Charles smiled down at his feet; Sharon was purring, rubbing her head against his legs, begging to be patted. Charles bent down with a soft smile as he placed his hand on the small head of the cat, his fingers stroking over the black fur while the cat purred happily.

The astral-plane was amazing; here he could pretend that he could walk, and he could pretend to feel the sun on his too pale skin, and he could pretend that he could feel the green grass under under his feet. Everything was fine.

No,it was not.

Of course it was not.

Nothing was alright, and Charles knew this more than anyone else.

He-had-to-stop it!

He had to snap out of it!

He had to pull himself together, his breakdown had shown him that. He wouldn't survive another breakdown, wouldn't survive it mentally, and what he feared the most was that next time someone would get hurt.

Charles couldn't remember what had happened, not exactly, but he had seen the living room, had seen the broken windows and the destroyed shelves, had seen the broken TV, and had known that it was HIM who had done this.

His powers had been out of control, they always were if he couldn't control his emotions, and as to be seen he couldn't control his emotions very well, not with his current state of mind.

It was a dilemma, it truly was, and Charles knew that he HAD to do something about it.

Of course he had suffered.

Of course it had hurt.

Of course it still did hurt.

Of course it would never be alright again.

But he couldn't continue to live like this, not only because of his own sake, but also for the sake of the others.

It was selfish to drown himself in self-pity.

Charles Xavier was stubborn, and maybe sometimes slightly arrogant, but surely he wouldn't refuse to pull himself together for his friends sake. He should accept their help, he really should, but he would not because he would manage to pull himself together - on his own. They had done enough for him, and he was thankful for that, but now it was time to show himself that he wasn't as pathetic as he made himself believe.

It would be an awful lot of work, and he would have to order his mind and go through the nightmares of the event once again, but ...he had to find peace, and he would only find peace if he faced what had destroyed him.

 _I fear I am mentally unstable_. He chuckled slightly, sadly, and Sharon gave him a wary gaze. _I don't know if I am strong enough to do it, to face it...I know I had a lot of time, over a month now, but...It still does hurt so much..._ He clasped the fabric of his black vest with his right hand, right above his heart, as if to emphasize his words.

Sharon stayed quiet.

 _I am talking to a cat...You know how weird this feels?_ And to himself he thought, _Well, just another sign that you're slowly going mad._

Of course she didn't knew. Charles was sure that the cat gave him a offended glance, but maybe he was just imagining things. He was imagining a lot lately...

Why was it so easy to talk to a cat, while it was almost unberable to communicate with other people? With his friends?

Why was it so easy to touch the cat, the cuddle it, while he feared to be touched be the ones who loved him, fully aware that they wouldn't harm him?

Why did he flinch every time he saw a man?

Why couldn't he stop himself from shaking when someone approached him?

Why was it so difficult to sleep peacefully?

Why couldn't he bring himself to accept help?

So many questions, and yet he had the answer already; he had been raped, for god's sake, of course he couldn't just go back to his normal life, of COURSE it was different and difficult now, and of course it was not easy to trust others!

It all, all of it, were signs of someone who suffered from trauma, and back in the clear part of his head he KNEW this, but he couldn't bring himself to accept it, because he felt even more pathetic and useless then...

 _It's not fair..._ Charles mumbled, but yet he wasn't angry at anyone, not anymore; his rage and hate had ebbed into a dull nothingness.

It could have been worse. It always could have been worse.

He, Charles, was alive, and that was what mattered.

He had his friends to help him.

He had Erik.

He would be able to pull himself together.

He would be able to walk again, maybe with a crutch and a greave, but it was okay, it was alright.

He was ambidextrous and therefore he wouldn't have to miss being able to write, even if he would miss the piano. But, better one damaged and a good hand than no hands at all.

And, most important; he was aware of himself. He knew who he was, and he was not completely broken. He would heal, some day...

Someday he would open a school, he would teach mutant children to... _To what_?

He wouldn't be able to teach them to be proud, not when he wasn't proud of being a mutant himself. He wouldn't be able to teach them to accept humans if he wasn't sure if he could still accept the human behavior towards mutants.

The pieces, his dreams, Charles had to gather them back together.

He should gather them back together.

Charles was not sure if he wanted gather them back together.

The wounds were deep, not the physical ones, no, they were healing, it were the mental ones that hurt the most.

 _I ...I don't want to be broken._

No, he had to correct himself;

 _I don't want to stay broken._

Sharon meowed.

The telepath sighed as he leaned back up to stare at the blue sky of the astral plane. He could see the moon, and the sun. It was a clear sky, clear blue, without any clouds. He silently asked himself if the sky in the real world looked the same. Probably.

The sun was almost golden, and the moon a pale bluish white, but it was the sky that was impressive; it was such a bright and warm blue, Charles really could imagin it to be the sea.

He also liked the grass; it was bright green, a stark contrast to the blue sky and the redish leaves of the black trees. Charles wondered why the leaves where red, since it wasn't autumn yet, but this was the astral plane, everything was possible.

He could change it, if he wanted to, but he liked the plane as it was. Maybe he had changed it already. Charles wasn't sure.

 _I really wished I could go out for real. You know, walking around the grounds..._

Sharon blinked, and Charles was sure she would raise an eyebrow if she could. He had to mentally laugh at the image.

 _Of course I could go out._ He added while rolling his eyes, _But I would have to use the wheelchair. Anyway, Hank wouldn't allow me to go outside, not right now. I think he still fears that I am too weak due my breakdown._

The cat nodded, or at least it looked like nodding to Charles, though soon he realized that she was only cleaning herself with her pink tongue.

They all thought he was made of glass, but he wasn't. It was bad enough that he had had a breakdown, but now they were even more worried about him, always careful not to hurt him or to trigger a situation where he was reminded of the happening.

They were overly careful, and he knew they meant it well, but he felt too patronized, _pathetic_.

It was not like he was annoyed of their care, no he wasn't, but it was too much. He felt stifled by their care and worry, and it was difficult to rebuild himself if they blocked the prozess with their fear of another breakdown.

It was normal to go through the horrors of the event, it was normal to have nightmares and breakdowns, but they knew that, should know it, and still they were so worried.

Why?

Somehow it was difficult for Charles to understand it.

Normally Charles was the one who worried about others, always wanting to help, and it was so out of character to be the one who was weak.

He never had been weak, not as a child, even if Kurt or Cain had been able to hurt him, not as grown man.

He had always been in control, and now he had to gather it back, the control, the control over his life.

Maybe he needed all the care, maybe people like him - he had to chuckle dryly at that thought - who had suffered trauma needed others to help them, but he would stay stubborn, probably.

Charles had no idea how to handle a patient who had suffered trauma, and he doubted that Hank had known it before _it_ had happened.

Charles let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. _I wish I could turn back time..._

Everything would be so much easier...

Sharon, once again, was quiet. She was just a cat, and a cat would never answer verbally.

The wind turned cold, suddenly, and Charles began to shiver. The telepath opened his eyes and furrowed his brow; it was definitely colder than it had been mere minutes before, causing him to rubb his hands over the goosebumbs on his arms. His hair swirled around his head and into his eyes, making it difficult to see anything.

What had caused the sudden change in weather?

Charles' eyes wandered over the pond and to the trees in the distance.

What he saw made his heart skip a beat; two pesons were walking towards the mansion.

He couldn't see much out of the distance, and he couldn't see much because of his stubborn hair, but he could feel the coldness that swept through the air as those two approached him. He could SEE the darkness, the black spot in the astral plane, the same darkness that he had seen once before. It was a bright day, the sun as high as she could get, but still there was just...darkness, nothingness...

It made Charles guts cramp painfully with fear.

The person next to the shadow was...made of diamond. It was a woman, that much was certain, because she had two rather big breasts and long hair. The light of the sun was reflected by the icy diamond, making her glow. There was nothing warm in her appearance. She was as cold as ice, and as unreadable as the shadow besides her. He couldn't feel her presence either.

He had seen that woman before...But where?

Charles was afraid, so afraid that he couldn't grasp a clear thought.

NO one, NO one was suposed to be unreadable in the astral plane, not without not knowing that there was an astral plane at all. Or, maybe they knew? Charles could almost feel his face turning paler as it already was.

He had to go, he had to leave, immediately! He had to go back into his body, telling the others that someone was approaching, someone who didn't seem to come in peace...

The jump back into his body was rather painfull and sudden, causing him to whince as he grabbed his aching head. His heart was beating in his chest as if he'd run miles, his breathing was shallow and frantic.

Sharon eyed him with her green eyes, lying on the blanket at the end of the large bed.

Charles groand as he tried to push himself upwards with his arms, but they gave away under him, causing him to fall back on the soft mattress.

 _No,nononono!_

He was trembling all over.

 _God,no, you are pathetic, Xavier!_

His mouth felt dry and bitter as he tried once again to push himself up, but his shaky arms couldn't support his weight.

He felt sick.

The door opened, and Charles nearly jumped off the bed. "Charles, are you feeling well?"

Hank, god, it was Hank, Charles could tell him, had to tell him-

Charles reached out, pointing at the desk with the papers and the pen, urging Hank to follow his movement, but Hank seemed busy with his chart, totally ignoring Charles' weak attempt to start a conversation.

"Did you take the painkillers?"

No, no he hadn't, because they made him groggy, so _look Hank_ , _watch my damn finger!_

Hank, finally, looked up, raising an eyebrow as Charles threw his hand in the air over and over again, pointing with his index-finger at the table.

"Oh, sure." Hank smiled and walked up to the desk. Charles felt a rush of relief running through him. "Do you want a glass of water?"

Charles eyes turned to the empty glass on the desk, which stood next to the block of white paper, and his eyes widened, then he hastily shook his head, what had been a stupid idea because it made his head swim. "Oh, then, the pen and paper, I assum?" Charles nodded urgently.

Hank gathered the block of white paper and the blue pen, then he walked up to Charles' side and gave him the objects. Charles grabbed the pen, hastily scribbling down his note. His hand was shaking badly, he could barely read his own writing and instandly hoped that Hank would be able to decipher it.

"Oh, you are in a rather talkative mood today." Hank noticed happily, but Charles wasn't as happy as the blue scientist. The telepath ripped the paper of the block and handed it over for Hank to read it.

In a messy cursive handwriting was written;

 _ Someone is out there. _

_ They do not seem to be friendly. _

_ You immediately need to warn the others. _

Hank stared at the paper for mere minutes, rather long minutes for Charles, and sighed. "I see..." He didn't sound as if he believed what Charles had just written down.

"Just calm down, Charles." The voice of Hank was low, soothingly. "It must have been a nightmare again. I will give you a sedative, so you'll calm down, alright?"

 _NO!_

No, nothing was alright!

Charles shook his head violently, his brow furrowed in despair.

Hank probably thought that Charles was hallucinating, imagining things while being drugged, but he wasn't! He had SEEN them! He was sure!

 _Oh, really?_ His inner voice snarled. _Are you really sure that it was real?_

No, he wasn't.

But, he had seen them...

 _You are drugged, all hours of the day and even night, so are you honestly able to tell what's real and what isn't?_

Yes, he was, he could, he-

No.

No, maybe he couldn't.

But...

 _See_ , his inner voice mumbled, almost sad. _See, now you've truly become mad.._

But..But he had seen it, the night, the shadow, he was sure, it had been real...

But, what was real for a telepath anyway?

Charles sighed, closing his eyes and pressed his mouth together until it was a thin line.

When he opened his eyes again his gaze fell on Sharon.

The cat looked almost sad.

...

 _"I owe my life to you  
I can endure no more,  
I demand you remember who you are  
It was _ _ you _ _, who believed in me...  
You saved my life, now maybe it's my turn to save yours  
But I can never repay you, what you did for me is way more..."_

 _(I need a doctor, Eminem feat. Dr. Dre & Liz Rodrigues)_

...

"What the...What is _she_ doing here!"

Raven was angry, more than angry, her blue face twisted into a grimace of anger and hate. She had never seen Emma herself, only heard the story that Charles had told her after they'd come back from Russia, but she obviously seemed to recognize Emma.

The blue girl wasn't pleased to see the diamond woman.

Erik sighed, raising his hand to calm Raven down.

Emma had her head raised in an arrogant manner, clearly not amused by Raven's behavior.

"I am here to help the Xavier brat!" The blonde hissed.

Raven's yellow eyes narrowed even further, her gaze darting to Erik. "What the hell! What does that mean, Erik! You haven't told us anything! Is that how you want to solve all our problems, by not telling us anything!"

Alex, who stood at the banister, snorted approvingly. The blonde boy wasn't the biggest fan of Erik anyway.

"Let me explain!" Erik snarled, but Raven just laughed dryly. "No! I won't let you explain anything! You're doing an awful lot of things on your own lately, things that we are part of, things which will have consequences, but you never ASK us! You never even consider it! That's not fair!"

Alex nodded, his mouth a grim line. "Raven is right. We're young adults, we should be able to ..."His gaze wandered to Emma. "To choose with whom we want to work in the future."

There was a heavy silence afterwards, all four of them staring at each other.

Erik was no telepath, but he could almost feel Raven's disappointment. She was often disappointed in him lately. Maybe he was doing something wrong after all.

Emma chose to speak, her voice cool and dry.

"Well, if you want me to go, I'll go. I have no interest for anything that has to do with you. Don't think I like being here, because I don't." She turned her head to Erik. "Sorry darling." And turned back to Raven, who was literally staring daggers at Frost. Erik was sure that Raven was close to strangle Emma, but the blue girl stayed surprisingly calm.

"So, you can help Charles, or what?"

A change of topic, then? Interesting...So, Raven was too worried to be wary for to long.

Emma straightened up, her shoulders drawn back and her head slightly raised. It really looked arrogant, also nobel maybe, but Emma was perfectly aware of that; Emma Frost always needed a show to present herself.

"Well, I might be able to help him, but I am not sure." Her icy eyes turned to Erik, who returned her gaze without flinching back. Charles had blue eyes as well, but Charles' eyes were warm and full of energy - had been like this, once. Emma's eyes were cold, their color distanced as if it was hidden behind blurry glass. Erik didn't like Emma's eyes, they felt like cutting knives. "I don't know what to expect, since Erik-"

He caughed.

She rolled her eyes.

" _Magneto_ -" She corrected herself. "hasn't told me what exactly has happened to your Charles. All I know is that I shall take a look inside his mind."

Raven gasped, her yellow eyes widening. "Wait, you...You what?" She pointed with her index-finger at Erik, her hand shaky. "You can't possibly have said something like that, because if you have I'll skin you."

Emma laughed her high pitched laughter. "I think I might like that girl, Lehnsherr."

Both, Erik and Raven, gave her an annoyed glance.

Erik sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index-finger. Chares had always used to do that when he was emotionally stressed or simply tired and worn out.

"Raven, there aren't many options left. We have take every possibility which could lead to Charles' cure. Emma is one of the few telepaths that I know- " Which happened to be two"- and that's why I've chosen to ask her - without your permission because I knew you wouldn't be pleased."

He took a deep breath, his eyes on Raven who still had a look of disbelief on her face. "Frost's telepathy allows us an access to his mind, helping us to see what is going on inside his head. We might be able to repair what has been broken and-"

To Erik's surprise it was Alex who interrupted him, not Raven like he had expected her to do. "So, do you wanna tell us that you wanna break into his mind?"

Emma rolled her eyes but nodded. "It seems like that, since he is in no state of arguing. At least that's what I've heard." Her eyes turned to Erik, whose face was perfectly calm.

Raven laughed, and it sounded as disbelieving as the look she was wearing on her face. "You want to repair him, then? Like he is a broken machine you can fix?"

The girl laughed again, covering her face with her hand as she took a deep and shaky breath; she was trying to calm herself. "I can't believe it.." She whispered. "Of all people I thought you would know the best that you can't just break into his mind and fix him like he is a broken toy or a puzzel that has to be solved!" She let her hand fall down so that her angry face was to be seen. "He needs care! He is a living soul, not a puppet! You can't just repair him by mending his mind, it's not that easy!"

She cared, she really did, and Erik was slightly taken aback by how emotional the girl was about the whole thing. Of course he had expected her to be angry, but he hadn't thought that she was that much against his methods of helping Charles.

"Of course I know that it won't be as it was before." The metal-bender said slowly, carefully, while watching Raven; the hands of the girl were balled into fists, and she looked as if she was ready to punch something - or rather someone.

"But we have to DO something Raven. I can't stand it anymore, and I know that all of you can't stand it either." His voice was cool, steady, but it was quite an amount of work to speak without a shaky voice.

He wasn't angry at Raven, no, because there was no reason to be angry at her. He was...confused, because, now, he began to wonder if maybe Raven was right.

The girl cared for Charles because she was his sister, he cared for Charles because he loved him. Both of them loved him, in their own way, and both of them wanted to help him, with different methods as it seemed.

Erik straightened his shoulders, standing upright in the doorway. "I want you to watch the process, Raven."

Raven was quiet.

Alex had crossed his arms, but he was quiet as well.

They were listening, and that was good, because he needed them to understand his intentions.

"I want Charles to be as close to his old self as he can be, and we only will be able to achive this if we have the help of someone who can pick up the pieces of his mind. We have to pick him back together, piece by piece, and if we're lucky it will be a success. "

"What if it does not work." Raven asked, her voice small and tight. "What if your oh so great plan does not work? What if it makes everything worse?"

Erik had thought of the same possibility, had pondered what he would do if it would end in a bad way. He had no answer yet, but he did not need one, because Erik was sure that everything would be alright. Because he wanted it to be alright. It was ridiculous to cling at the thought of perfection,of hope, but he allowed himself the little comfort that hope was giving him.

"It will work." Erik said, his voice firm, allowing no buts. Raven pressed her lips together, visibly not convinced, but she said nothing in return. She knew that there was no point in arguing with Erik, not now, not anymore.

He had made himself clear, had shown them that he would do what he wanted to do, and they couldn't stop him.

He was their leader, now that Charles was 'gone' and they had to accept that. He made the decisions, they had to follow his orders.

It was like chess.

Erik was the king, and the others were his pawns. Of course Erik would never consider them as his pawns, because they were his friends, Charles' friends, their family, but the world was just a big chessboard and all of them knew it.

"Raven." Erik waved towards her." I will give you my helmet." He placed his hands on either side of the helmet and lifted it from his head. He saw Raven's wide eyes. "Someone has to watch the whole process. I don't trust Frost, I just need her help."

Emma snorted.

"You,Raven, will watch over us and make sure that Emma does her work."

Raven swallowed and her head turned to Emma. "How am I supposed to see what she is mentally doing to you or Charles when I wear the helmet?" Of course she wouldn't know if Emma played with Erik's mind or if she didn't, but Erik felt much safer if he was sure that at least one person was safe from Emma's telepathic touch.

"I just need someone who is protected and able to help us if something goes wrong. We don't know what will happen, it could be that Charles looses his control over his powers." The sentence 'Or that Emma tries to betray us.' stayed unspoken. Erik doubted that Emma would try something as stupid as betraying them. "We need someone whoes mind is safe of telepathic touches."

"Wouldn't it be better if Hank takes the helmet?" Raven asked. "He is the only one who really knows what to do if someone gets injured."

Emma laughed dryly. "Believe me dear, even your scientist wouldn't be able to help anyone of us if Charles looses his control over his telepathic powers. He would pulp your brains within mere seconds."

Alex cleared his throat and mumbled something like, "Great...", but Raven seemed unaffected by this statement.

"I know that very well." She answered cooly. "But he doesn't have to smash our brains to hurt us, what if something else happens?"

Erik sighed and pressed the helmet into Raven's hands. "He would want you to be safe." It was a honest answer.

Raven furrowed her brow, her dark lips a tight line, but she nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's what he would want..." Her gaze was fixed on the helmet in her hands, the fingers of her left hand sliding over the smooth metal as she continued. "...but he would also want you to be safe. He wouldn't want you to risk anything for him."

Erik stayed silent, his gaze on the blue girl, but mentally he agreed. He knew that Charles wouldn't want him to do anything that could possibly hurt anyone he cared for.

"Just do it." Erik's voice was low and stern because he didn't want to show any emotions, not now. "Trust me, you are his sister, he cares for you a lot. " _And I feel like I have to do this, because it was me who didn't stop him from leaving the mansion that day._

Yes, Erik felt guilty, and he would always blame himself for it, himself an the humans. God, he would never forgive them.

Raven flinched and a look of fear could be seen behind her eyes. There had to be the wild gleam in Erik's eyes again, the one that Charles had been so worried about.

 _"It's the look of someone who searches for revenge"_ The telepath had said, his brow furrowed in worry. _"Of someone that hungers for blood. Its the gaze of a murderer, not the gaze of yours."_

 _"But I am a murderer."_ Erik had replied, his voice cold as steel.

Charles had smiled sadly at that, his voice low and thoughtfully. _"No, you are not, Erik. You are a lost soul on its way home, not a murderer."_

 _"I have blood on my hands, Charles, I have killed people, doesn't that make me a murderer?"_

Charles had been strangely quiet after that, and after several minutes he had raised his glass of Scotch to his lips. _"People can change."_ He placed his Scotch on the table next to the chessboard after he had taken a sip. _"And I believe that you are one of the people who is able to change."  
_

Erik wasn't sure if he would ever change, or if he had changed, but he knew that he felt the same hatred and anger for those stupid human that he had felt for Shaw. It was burning anger which was slowly eating him up from inside.

Surely this wasn't what Charles would have wanted.

Oh,but Charles wouldn't have wanted a lot of things that had happened, and sadly there were more things to happen that he wouldn't like either.

Erik took a deep breath as he closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing.

"So, are we going to do it now?" Emma asked casually while eyeing the framed picture which hung at the opposite wall. It was a family portrait of the Xaviers, which showed the blonde Sharon Xavier in a red dress together with the brunette Kurt Marko next to the bully Cain Marko, who stood tall and straight. Charles stood next to his mother, smaller than Cain and a lot thinner and paler, though he didn't look sick, just really worn out, but happy. Erik doubted that this picture showed the real atmosphere that had been in the family. Charles had never told him much about his past, and he had always avoided questions about family issues.

Charles had once told him that he looked a lot like his father, and that in turn had annoyed Kurt and upset his mother.

There was no single picture to be found in the mansion on which Charles' father was to be seen. Erik didn't even know his name. Charles had never told him anything about him, but Erik knew that Charles had loved him a lot.

"Magneto?" Emma's voice was too loud. "Hello? Are you with us or are you drowning in you memories?"

Erik gave her a hateful glance but smiled cooly. "I guess that's not of your concern, Frost."

Emma rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. "I guess not."

Erik turned away from Emma to face Alex. "You, go and talk to Hank, tell him that I want him to be prepared in case anything happens to one of us."

Alex raised one eyebrow, his arms still crossed in front of his chest. "What do you mean, 'to be prepared'? I thought we're all dead if somethin' happens."

Erik rubbed his forehead. "Just do it,okay?" The blonde teen turned up his nose but turned around to walk to the lab. "Raven, you'll come with us." Raven nodded, clutching the helmet as if it was a life-raft.

They silently walked up to Charles' room, neither of them saying anything.

Raven would be pale, if she could be pale, her shoulders tense and her mouth a small line. She didn't seem to be frightened, just worried.

Emma was totally unaffected, her face a cold mask of beauty.

Erik knew he himself wore a grim look on his face, looking sharp around the edges.

The tension in the air was palpable and the walk to the door seemed endlessly.

They would take a look inside his mind, inside Charles mind, and neither of them was sure what Emma and Erik would see.


	13. Inside The Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, Sorry, this was supposed to be done quicker, but I am totally Sherlocked and trolling
> 
> [Tumblr](<p><a%20title=%22Me%20on%20Tumblr%22%20href=%22http://georginoschkavincen.tumblr.com/%22>Tumblr</a></p>)
> 
> (it's so damn distracting!)
> 
> I hope you can forgive me.  
> Love U all.

_"Come inside and be afraid  
See what's going on inside my mind..._

_Please let me out!_

_Branded like an animal  
I can still feel them burning my mind..._

_Come inside now I implore  
Do you think you can restore  
Crucial pieces missing from my brain..._

_I've lost what it was within me  
_

_Now I try again to find  
The thing that was my mind_

_Behold the other side  
Who said I've lost my mind?"_

[ _(Perfect Insanity , Disturbed)_ ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wF-DCt4YYjg)

 

**Chapter 12**

The room was dim lit by the light of the sun. The shadows were too dark, a stark contrast to the golden light.

Nothing had changed, not in this room. The table was untouched, the chair well-placed in front of the desk. The curtains were open. At least it wasn't too dark in the room.

Erik's gaze wandered over the red carpet to the big bed; Charles was quiet, fast asleep, his head turned towards the window, his dark curls hiding his pale face. His pale and slender hands were placed on the blanket. His right hand was still bandaged.

Erik didn't dare to breathe, he was afraid it would wake the fragile figure.

Emma walked to the bed, clearly not caring if she was too loud or not; there was no pity or sympathy on her face, and Erik wasn't even sure if there was anything to be seen in her cold eyes. Curiosity was the only thing he could identify deep hidden behind the coldness.

"He is a mess." The blonde telepath leaned down to take a closer look. Her platinum blonde hair brushed over Charles' cheek, but the younger man didn't stir. Erik was close to strangle her but he stayed calm, only his fingers twitched slightly.

Raven took notice, Emma didn't.

"We should start now." Emma leaned back up, her eyes on Charles' face, her head slightly tilted. "His mind is not as weak as you all might think. We have some time, he is sedated so his mind will be sluggish and sleepy, and that in turn allows us more time to take a look around."

Erik nodded, but he noticed that Emma's eyes were still fixed on Charles, not on him, so he cleared his throat. "Alright."

"Come here." Emma waved, a sign for Erik to walk up to her. Erik straightened his shoulders, his head raised as he walked up to Emma. "Better we sit down." Emma gestured towards the bed. Erik didn't argue.

Raven eyed them, her eyes narrowed and her expression wary; the blue mutant sat on a chair next to the wall,her arms wrapped around her legs which were placed on the chair in front of her body, her yellow eyes not leaving Emma.

Emma had a cold smile on her lips. Erik could see the blue hue of her lipstick. He never had noticed it before. "What do I have to do?" Erik asked, his eyes on Charles' pale face. Charles seemed to disappear under the thick blanket, only his head and hands were to be seen.

"What exactly do you mean?" Emma asked in return, her cold eyes fixing Erik with an intense stare.

"Well, just that." Erik snapped back.

Emma turned up her nose, her head slightly raised as if she was waiting for more words of explanation, but Erik wasn't going to explain anything. She sighed, clearly annoyed. "Well, I will take you with me. It will feel like a pull, don't resist, it makes it more difficult for me. I have no idea how his mind will look like, and I don't know what we are searching for. That is up to you, since I assume you know what caused..." She trailed off, pointing with a nod towards Charles. "His state."

"So, we have to search for the cause of his state?" Erik asked, his brow furrowed.

"Yes?" Emma replied, her voice mimicking Erik's questioning tone. She really was annoyed, but this was Emma Frost, she was easily annoyed.

Erik gave her an angry glance, his jaw clenched, but he held himself back. This was for Charles, he had to keep calm if he wanted this to work. Oh, how he hated Emma, this cold-hearted bitch, but he would stay calm..

Emma's mouth twitched, almost as if to smile, but her face remained bored. She could hear his thoughts now, now that he wasn't wearing the helmet.

Erik smirked and Emma raised an eyebrow in return. "Shall we?" She asked, bored. She didn't seem to be nervouse at all. She was hiding her emotions pretty well, but Erik could see behind the facade; he could see the thin lines next to her mouth, he could see her stiff posture and her folded hands. She was nervouse, but she covered it with arrogance. Smart woman.

Erik gave her a nod and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure why he closed his eyes, it wouldn't help much since everything that would happen would happen behind his eyes, but somehow it made him feel safe. Safer.

There was no warning as he was pulled forward, and he took in a gulp of air as he was pulled into darkness. Everything swirled around, a blurr of grayish blue, swirling and swirling, and he was in the center of it. It was as if he was trapped in the middle of a whirlwind, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, colors and smells. They grabbed him, yanking at his clothes, ruffling his hair, the wind, the thoughts, yanking him around and swirling him until he felt sick.

It almost hurt, it was too much, a pressure behind his eyes, and he was pulled down, down and down until it stopped, suddenly, as sudden as he had been pulled inside the chaos of thoughts.

Erik blinked, trying to become used to the silence and the darkness. He shivered. Somehow it was really cold here.

"I am here, Lehnsherr." Erik swirled around; Emma Frost stood behind him, her body almost glowing too white in the darkness.

"Where exactly are we?" Erik asked slowly. He felt a bit dizzy. The metal-bender's gaze wandered down to his hands; this were his hands. He was still inside his body, well, or at least it looked like his body, since this was his mind, or...was it? It was a bit confusing.

"Inside his mind, of course." Emma snarled, her arms crossed in front of her large breast. "You could say this is the anteroom."

"Anteroom?" Erik mumbled, more to himself than to Emma, feeling a bit stupid because he was always repeating her words. He took a step forward and something crunched under his shoes. Erik looked down, and his eyebrows raised. Splinter. There were splinter everywhere on the ground, large and small ones, all in different colors, looking like glass or diamond.

Erik bend down and took one of them in his hand. It was a large one, one that was as large as a small hand mirror. The glass was smooth in his hand, the edges not sharp enough to cut his skin. "What's this?" He asked, his eyes not leaving the shard. He could see a sky, a blue sky with small white clouds. There was a part of a meadow, too. And the sun, he could see golden sunrays.

This shard seemed to have something utterly warm and comfortable. Erik could almost feel the sunrays, could almost smell the fresh grass...It was amazing!

"Those are shards of his mental shield." The White Queen answered, her eyes on Erik, who was mesmerized by the shard in his hand. "His mental shield? But, it looks like a scrap of a memory.." He could hear the crunching of glass as Emma walked up to him.

"Technically, it is. This-" She opened her arms. "- this was the place where his dreams used to be. His dreams, which were his mental shield, which kept everyone out of his head but not in a violent way. His dreams were his way to keep himself save and sane. As you see, they are all completely shattered.."

Something inside Erik turned upside down, and his heart felt surprisingly heavy. "Completly shattered?" He echoed, feeling faint. "What does that mean?"

Emma sighed, her arms back in front of her breasts. "Just what I've said. They are shattered, completly, and it will take him years to build them up again. I don't think he will ever manage it, even if he is who he is, the strongest telepath on this earth. Whatever has happened-" Her eyes were piercing through Erik's. "It has caused a lot of damage."

Erik gulped; why was he so surprised, why so shocked? He had known that it was serious, he had known that there was damage, but he hadn't expected...this...

"Are you able to rebuild them?" He asked, out of the blue. "Could you do that?" He knew he was sounding desperate. He did not care.

Why was Charles without his dreams? Without his happiness? Without his defense against the thoughts of others?

Emma took a deep breath, and for one moment Erik was sure he could see sympathy in her cold eyes. "No." She said, surprisingly soft. "I am not as strong as he is. I have my own mental shield, my diamond form, and it is utterly different from his. I wouldn't be able to mend the pieces because I don't know how. He is the only one who is, or should be, able to do this - at least in his own mind. I fear no one else will be able to do it, not if even he can't do it."

Erik pressed his lips together but nodded. He just hoped that Charles would manage to rebuild his shields, his dreams.. Erik had a bitter taste in his mouth but he swallowed it down. Everything would be alright.

"Follow me." Emma began to walk, the glass crunching under her high heels. Erik placed the shard back on the ground, then he followed Emma through the darkness.

Erik had no clue how long they walked through the never ending darkness. It was quiet , too quiet, and it was cold. He shivered, his eyes roaming over the broken shards and pieces of Charles' mental shield.

It took him by surprise as the door appeared in front of them; it was a large wooden door made of cherry wood. The doorhandle was made of silver but otherwise there was nothing special about the door. In fact the door almost looked like every other door in the mansion.

Emma said nothing as she laid her hand on the silver. For one moment she stood there, her eyes on the doorhandle, her shoulders stiff and her eyes narrowed in concentration, then she let go of the doorhandle and the door opened with a small click.

"Your turn now." Frost said as she pointed towards the door.

"What am I supposed to do?" _And won't you help me in there?_ The metal-bender asked.

"I'll come with you but I won't be able to touch anything." The blonde telepath replied. "He would notice my touch immediately because he isn't used to the presence of my mind but-"

"But my mind he knows." Erik finished the sentence, nodding. That made sense; Charles mind would attack Emma as soon as he had noticed her because she was his enemy, had been his enemy. However, he wouldn't attack Erik because Erik was his friend, his love, someone he knew.

Erik entered the room behind the door. He wasn't sure what he had expected to see, but surely it hadn't been this.

The room was large, larger than any room that Erik knew. In fact it looked like a whole libary, stuffed with bookshelves and tables. The ceiling was high, so high that Erik could barely see it. No room in the real world looked like this, but, hey, this was Charles mind, everything was possible.

There was a bed, a large bed in the left corner of the room next to the incredible large window, which was well made and hardly used. All the windows were large and looked like the windows that Erik knew were to be found in churches. The sunlight lit the room in a golden light.

This room had something utterly warm and welcoming.

The floor was made of dark wood and the walls were made of stone. _Like a castle_ , Erik thought as he walked along the bookshelves; his fingers itched to grab one of the books but he wasn't sure if that was a good idea.

Erik noticed the abundantly ornamented fireplace made of silver and dark cherry wood, but there was no fire inside.

The room looked like a hall, like a mixture of a libary and a bedroom, giving Erik the feeling of being home, but at the same time he felt as if he didn't belong here.

He could hear voices, just mumbling and muttering, soft whispers which floated through the room like an echo. Erik felt watched, haunted, and his eyes darted from side to side, but there was no one to be seen.

Frost was waiting at the door, watching him with curiosity in her eyes.

Erik stopped in front of the desk. It was a large desk, full of white paper and pens, but nothing had been written down on the paper. The paper was all blank, blank and bright white as if someone had just placed it on the table.

Erik's fingers hovered over the paper but he did not touch it. Better not to touch anything, at least not if it wasn't necessary.

Erik raised his gaze and let it wander over the windowsill and the glass. It was a sunny day outside but Erik could not see the outside; no trees, no grass, no blue sky, just bright golden sunlight.

The metal-bender tore his gaze away from the mesmerizing bright light and turned around. Too many bookshelves, where to begin? Erik was sure that he would find something usefull in those books, something that would tell them about Charles' feelings and his current state. There had to be a reason for all those books, and now that he thought about it; where to hide your memories and feelings better than in books? It seemed all like Charles, who loved books oh so much.

With long and steady steps he walked towards the next best bookshelf. Books in all different sizes and colors.

Erik randomly picked a red one with golden tendrils on its cover. The book was large but thin, almost like a children's book. There was no title. None of the books had a title.

Erik opened the book and he hadn't even read the first word as suddenly everything began to blur-

_"Mother." I say. "Mother, you are going out?" Again? And what will father say? Won't he be sad?  
No, father won't be sad. Father is too busy with is experiments. I think that's why mother is searching for distraction all the time.  
I know she is about to visit one of her best friends. They are not really her best friends, no, they are all superficial and hypocritical, but mother likes to call them friends.  
"Hush now, Francis, it is late and you have to go to bed." She doesn't even look at me; she is too busy with looking at her mirror image. She looks good in her blue dress and her white shoes.  
I don't feel cold in my pajama. It's warm in the room, mostly because of the fire in the fireplace.  
I stay calm and quiet, not leaving.  
She doesn't look at me again.  
She leaves the room while I am still standing at the side of the dressing table-_

Erik blinked and shook his head; he was back in the room, had somehow managed to come back, and it was a relief. All the emotions...He had been Charles, he had seen his mother, had felt the sadness of being ignored...

Erik quickly closed the book and placed it back in the shelf. Wrong book. He was still a bit shaken as he walked to the next shelf. Maybe the next book would tell him more? At least he had been right with his theory, but he hadn't expected that it would be...this intense.

The next book he took was blue with silver ravens on its front. This book had more pages than the first one but it wasn't heavy. Erik took in a deep breath as he opened the book in the middle, prepared for the emotions, and began to read.

_\- that's why I stay perfectly calm. Raven looks up to me, her head tilted and her expression questioning. She does look sad, even if she barely knew my father._

_I am not crying, I have cried enough for now. I don't want her to see me crying.  
"We have to go back inside." Raven says, her voice soft and warm as if she doesn't want to hurt me with her words. Oh, dear Raven..."Mother said she wants to visit Kurt."  
Oh, she always says mother to Sharon, and she always says brother to me. We are a family now. But, that's because I've made mother believe that Raven is my sister. She does think Raven is her child. I know that's not right, I shouldn't have done this because it's wrong, it's a lie, but I had to. Otherwise she would have never agreed to let Raven stay with us.  
"I know." I answer, my voice steady and calm. My throat feels dry. "Let's go back than."  
I don't want to visit Kurt and his rude son Cain, I've never liked them much. They often came to visit mother and father because Kurt is a co-worker of father's - was.  
I still can't believe that father is gone. It feels so unreal and I think that's the reason why I can't-_

Erik took a deep breath and closed the book. Wrong book again. A cold chill ran down his spine and he looked over his shoulder. The paper rustled in the wind. A window was open. Had it been open before?

There was a strong feeling of sadness inside him and he realized that it was not his own but Charles'. This whole book-reading-thing was dangerous, he realized, because the feelings, Charles' feelings, were getting stronger and stronger. He really hoped they wouldn't overwhelm him..

He swallowed hard. Why was his throat suddenly so dry?

"Be careful." Emma told him as he walked to the next shelf. "Don't read too many of those, you will lose yourself in them."

 _Oh really?,_ Erik thought bitterly as he took a purple book. "You really could have warned me..." He added as he eyed the cover of the book.

Emma snorted. "Why? I thought you would be clever enough. Reading memories is dangerous and never lets you unaffected."

 _I am not a telepath, how should I have known?_ Erik nearly replied but he stayed calm instead.

He opened the book and barely noticed that his hands were shaking as he was pulled into the memory.

_He is watching me. I can feel his eyes on me but I don't turn around. I talk to Sean instead.  
Sean isn't listening, he looks at his bowl of breakfast cereal and thinks about comics and his favourite TV show. Why do I even try to talk to him? I know it's pointless, utterly pointless, but I don't want to turn around to face Erik.  
"Charles, I need to talk to you." Erik says, and I perfectly know what he wants to talk about. It's about the kiss, the stupid kiss, and I feel my guts clench in...fear?  
I've been reckless, too much alcohol, probably. Deep inside I know that it wasn't the alcohol, I just try to find a reason for the kiss.  
It would be a lie to say it was because of the alcohol.  
But, maybe I have to lie, to save the friendship that Erik and I share?  
Why am I afraid? I've never been afraid to show my emotions, never, but with Erik it's something else. I just don't want to lose what we have.  
I don't want to lose him...  
He could go, can go, where he wants whenever he wants, and I fear he might leave us ...Leave us because of a stupid kiss.  
God, Xavier, you are such a stupid idiot!  
He said he needs time to think, and after two days of ignoring me he finally talks to me again. I would love to take a look inside his mind but I don't dare.  
He would notice.  
He would be angry.  
I don't want to screw up things, even if I probably already have. Why am I so insecure? It's not like me at all...  
I turn around and a large smile is on my lips, even if I feel like turning around and hiding somewhere. Erik doesn't notice my nervousness. Maybe he does, but if he does he says nothing._

_"Charles, I -_

Erik closed the book and leaned back against the bookshelf. It became harder and harder to find a way out and back to himself. It was odd, to see himself while being inside Charles' 'body' , while _being_ Charles. He still could recall his own emotions at this point but at the same time he felt what Charles had felt. It was...too much. Had Charles really been this afraid? Erik had known that Charles had been nervous, but..It seemed he had been really...desperate?  
Erik hadn't known that his silence had bothered Charles this much. He had never asked. Yes, Erik had never asked. He had been so careless back then...  
Poor Charles.

Emma chuckled but Erik ignored her. He was close now. One, two, three bookshelves, four, five, what about this one?

Erik stopped in front of another shelf, the very last one in the row, and took a greenish blue book. It was a small book and the cover was decorated with small red leaves. Erik asked himself if the book covers had any meaning, surely they had, but not to Erik.

The metal-bender opened the book and began to drown a blur of colors.

_"Erik, please!" I nearly scream, not because I am angry but because I am annoyed. Annoyed because he is too wary. He is always too wary, my dear Erik. "Don't be ridiculous!"  
Erik turns around, his face a perfectly calm mask as he walked up to me. I still sit in the armchair,so I have to look up to him. I always have to look up to him, it's nothing new to me.  
He leans down, down until our noses touch."Ridiculous?" His eyes are cold but his voice is smooth. I don't know what he thinks or feels. I never know. "I am worried, Charles. "  
We stare at each other, my heart is wildly pounding in my chest. I can feel his breath on my lips.  
"You don't need to be worried, dear." I smile, trying to calm him, but Erik is too upset. "Really, Erik, I know what I do."  
Erik laughes but it is a bitter laughter. "I don't think you do."  
Silence, awkward silence.  
I don't know how to reply. I don't want to hurt him with my words, but in return I also don't want to be hurt by his words. He furrows his brow, his face is stern.  
"You're doing that face again."I mention with amusement in my voice. I say it to lighten the mood.  
His eyebrows raise. "What?" I took him by surprise.  
"Your face." I say again, gesturing at his face. "That look, it doesn't suit you. It makes you appear older than you are." It doesn't, I just can't stand it when he looks at me like this. It makes me feel uncomfortable.  
Erik looks at me and his eyebrows raise higher. I can't help it, I have to laugh at this adorable face.  
First I think he is angry, but then he starts to chuckle. It's a low and warm chuckle. I like it when he laughs, it's so much better than his grim face.  
We end up kissing. I don't know why or how, but I honestly don't care.  
_

_His lips are soft against my own and I-_

Erik pressed the heel of his hand against his eye. Hastily he closed the book and placed it back into the shelf. His whole body was trembling.

Emotions swirled inside him, _love, desire, warmth..._

He could recall the evening, ohh, of course he could. It was so weird to see it, to feel it, from Charles' perspective.

Somehow the whole thing began to feel wrong, wrong because he was searching through the deepest memories of Charles, something that was private. Feelings, memories, thoughts...Things that Charles maybe had never wanted him to see.

Erik felt miserable.

It was wrong.

He was doing something that he himself would never want anyone to do; searching through his mind.

Maybe he just imagined things but he was sure it had become colder in the room. The sunlight slowly disappeared behind rainy clouds, leaving the large room in dark shadows.

Was he betraying Charles' trust? But, he did this because he wanted to help Charles.

Charles...Did he need Erik's help? Did he even want it?

Erik took a shaky breath as he tried to calm his racing heart.

"Everything alright ?" Emma asked, sounding bored. Erik sent a hateful glance into her direction as he pushed himself away from the bookself. "Yeah."

Okay, alright, this was the last bookshelf in the row, so technically the last book should be Charles' latest memory.

Erik bend down as his eyes searched for the last book. It was a small, brown one. The cover was made of leather and without any ornamentation.

Erik steeled himself for the encounter of emotions as he carefully opened the book somewhere near the end and-

Nothing.

There was nothing. The pages were blank, not a single word written on them.

Erik blinked in surprise as he flipped through the pages.

_Empty, empty, empty..._

Erik furrowed his brow as he placed the book back. What about the second last book? Erik took it out of the shelf but it was exactly the same as the last book; just a brown leather cover with blank pages.

"And?" Erik nearly jumped as Emma's voice asked from behind him. "Nothing." He answered, his voice totally calm. _Damn it, what now?_

"Well, he's smart." Emma tapped her index-finger against her chin as her eyes wandered through the room. "Of course he wouldn't hide the memories in a book, that's too obvious."

Erik stared at her. "Sorry, but why didn't you say something? We lost TIME because of that!"

Emma shrugged, not really interestd in Erik's anger. "Well, it was fun to watch you. Anyway-" She added as Erik's hands twitched dangerously. "I didn't knew it. I wasn't sure, I just wondered."

Erik growled but made no attempt to strangle Emma. "So, what are we going to do _now_?" He asked instead, clearly having a problem with keeping his emotions in check. "It's not like we have all the time of the world to find what we are searching for."

Emma sighed heavily as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know that." She answered. "I guess we just have to take a look around."

And so they began to search through the room while the light began to grow dimmer and dimmer. The shadows seemed to stretch and stretch, and Erik wasn't sure what that meant, but surely it wasn't something good, at least not for him and Emma.

Erik searched in the small nightstand, but nothing interesting was to be found there. Just a small marble and several loose photographs.

The photographes showed different people. Erik did recognize some of the people, for example he knew that one of them was Charles' father.

He, indeed, looked a lot like Charles. Just his eyes weren't as blue as Charles', and he was taller than Charles, but otherwise they looked a lot alike. Next to the man stood Charles mother, wearing a dress in dark green. Charles didn't look like her at all.

Charles himself was not to be seen on any of the photographs, and Erik assumed that this was a picture a moment that Charles' memory had saved as a photograph, something that was too precious to be simply written down in a book.

There was also a photo of Raven as a small child, laughing and holding a flower in her hand. She wasn't blue, no, she was the blonde girl that she had used to be. She had been blonde, Erik noticed, because Charles' mother had been blonde. It was to fool her, so it was easier for her mind to see Raven as her own daughter.

There were several other photos, also some of Erik himself. He was always smiling on them, random moments that Erik himself could barely remember.

But, those photos were useless, at least for for Erik, at least right at the moment, and that was why he put them back in the drawer.

There wasn't much left. The bookshelves were out of question and the tables were all blank.

Erik wondered if there was anything to be found at all; maybe this was the wrong room? Maybe there was another room and Emma had missed it? As if the room had heard his thoughts Erik suddenly saw the stone steps which were leading down to a heavy wooden door.

Erik turned around but Emma was no where to be seen. The metal-bender sighed, then he carefully walked down the steps.

He was sure he could hear voices again, muffled voices behind the door. He was curious and laid his ear against the door. Different voices, at least five or six different people, all male..

There was just one option;he had to open the door.

Those people...He was sure he would find what he was searching for if he opened this door. Carefully he laid his hand on the doorknob, trying to turn it, but the thing would refuse to move.

The voices behind the door got quieter.

Erik's hand slid over the locks, trying to open them with his powers, and to his surprise the locks clicked, but the door did not open.

It was odd, he couldn't even feel the metal but still he was able to open the door just by thinking of using his powers. He was nervous, more than nervous, and there was a heavy feeling inside his stomach, maybe a feeling which was supposed to warned him, but no, no, he did not listen to his inner voice which screamed at him not to open the bloody door, no, he opened the door, carefully and slowly.

Coldness grabbed him, washed through him and made him flinch. Darkness in front of his eyes, swirling darkness that reached for him, and the voices, he could hear them now.

_"Not worth living..."_

_"You won't survive this night, mutie..."_

_"You shouldn't exist..."_

Mumbling, hushed voices, whispering in the air, toneless and dull... But he could hear one voice above them all, one voice that he would never forget.

 _"I'll count till three."_ This voice once had said. Why was Shaw's voice inside Charles' head, behind a wooden door in a room full of darkness?

There were hands reaching for him, hands made of dark smoke which reached and reached and he could not move! He was frozen, shocked, his eyes wide as he stared into the darkness. He could see eyes, six pairs of them, all colorless and cold. Dead. Those were the eyes of dead people.

"Lehnsherr!" A flash of white rushed past him and closed the door with a loud bang. The coldness, the emptyness inside him, the fear, the despair, everything left as the door finally closed.

His heart hammered in his chest and he gasped for air. He hadn't noticed that he had been holding his breath. "What..." He gasped, his eyes still wide. "What was...that..." He managed to stutter. God, he was shaking like a leave in the wind. He felt sick. "I...Shaw, I could hear his voice and..." He trailed off, not able to speak any further because he was sure he would vomit.

Emma glared at him, her chest raising and falling as if she had been running. She probably had been running. "Idiot!" She snorted as he leaned back against the door. "You've thought it would leave him unaffected if he stays inside Shaw's mind while you're killing him?"

He just stared at her. "What?"

"YOU killed him, both of them!" Emma snapped. "He was linked with Shaw's mind, that's why a part of Shaw's mind is still living inside Charles while a part of Charles has died with Shaw. You are such an idiot Lehnsherr! You just opened the door where Charles hides them."

"Them?" Erik gasped, still too shocked to fully understand what was going on. A part of Shaw inside Charles' mind? "What do you mean _'them'_?"

Emma shook her head, closing her eyes. "He has killed more than one person, Erik. "

Erik gulped. "What?" He asked, slowly, feeling as if he was in trance.

"I don't know who those men are, but I know that he has killed them with his powers. That's all I can tell you."

Erik leaned back against the wall of the stairs, shaking his head to clear his mind. Charles would never kill anyone, ever! Unless...Erik raised his head, ready to open his mouth as a voice behind him spoke.

_"What are you doing here."_

It wasn't a voice that Erik had heard before. It wasn't just one voice, more like several voices together, voices in different pitches, _ages_. Male voices. Voices that seemed to belong to the same person but somehow they didn't seem to fit together.

Erik swallowed, his eyes darting to Emma's face; Emma's eyes were wide, her mouth slightly open as she stared at the person behind Erik. Erik had never seen her like this. Emma never showed emotions. Never.

Slowly, very slowly, Erik turned around.

Then he froze.


	14. No Help At All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, I am sorry, so sorry o_o Doctor Who stole my heart(s) several times (this series is so heartbreaking, god damn it!) and I had to catch him and his TARDIS + Tumblr is so distracting...  
> My uploads will take some time from now on ^^" Hope that's alright...
> 
> The Song 'Dark Side' belongs to Kelly Clarkson and I don't own it.

_"There's a place that I know  
It's not pretty there and few have ever gone  
If I show it to you now  
Will it make you run away?  
Or will you stay_

_Even if it hurts  
Even if I try to push you out  
Will you return?  
And remind me who I really am  
Please remind me who I really am_

_Everybody's got a dark side  
Do you love me?  
Can you love mine?  
Nobody's a picture perfect  
But we're worth it  
You know that we're worth it_

_Will you love me?  
Even with my dark side...?"_

_(Kelly Clarkson, Dark side)_

**Chapter 13**

Erik had expected to see a monster, something unhuman, something weird and wicked, something ugly and utterly frightening.

He had expected to see an animal, something from another world maybe, something that would haunt you in your dreams to let them become nightmares...

It wasn't a monster that stood at the steps of the stairs, it wasn't something ugly with big teeth and green skin like the monsters he had dreamed of as he had been a small child.

In fact, there, in the darkness of the hall, at the top of the stairs, stood a _child_.

A small boy, maybe eight years old, his skin white as snow and his hair black as the night.

Everything about the boy seemed black and white, the noble clothes as well as his skin and hair. The only colored spots were his eyes, glowing blue eyes, such a cold and bright blue that the pupils were not to be seen, and his too red lips, red lips which looked as if they had been colored with blood. The white skin of the boy himself seemed to glow in the darkness, letting him look like a ghost, something that was made of smoke. It was completly dark now in the room, dark and cold and colorless, everything in black and grey. Erik couldn't see the bookshelves anymore, not even the ceiling. He couldn't tell where the floor began and the ceiling ended. It was raining outside, thunder could be heared, lightning lit up the room and the face of the boy.

The pale face of the boy was too serious, and was too white in the light of the lightning. It was the eyes of the boy that made Erik flinch away.

Those eyes were so big and bright, so full of anger and sadness and grief while the young face was a perfect mask of no emotions.

Erik wasn't easily to be scared, but never had he been so afraid in the dark, never so afraid of a child.

His skin tingled with... fear? It was so cold in the room, so cold that he could see his own breath. This room had nothing in compare with the bright sunny room they had entered mere minutes, hours?,ago.

 _"What are you doing here!?"_ The boy asked again without moving his mouth. It was not the voice of one single boy, no, it was the mixture of male voices in different pitches which seemed to belong to the boy though.

This was Charles' mind. If this was Charles mind this had to be Charles.

Somehow Erik was very slow in thinking, maybe it was the fear that stopped him, maybe Charles, he couldn't tell.

Emma's breath was faltering and a choked noise reached Erik's ear. The metal-bender turned around on his heels to see Emma leaning against the cool stone wall, her eyes wide and her hands around her throat. She looked as if she was close to suffocating. There was despair on her face, despair and panic and...pain? Yes, she was definitely in pain; her fingers cramped around her throat and her brow was furrowed as if she had a headache.

Was Charles inside her mind? Was he attacking her with his powers? Erik was sure he could hear whispering in the air, voices that were talking, not to him though. It weren't the same voices from behind the door. No, this time it was something...else...Erik couldn't describe it. It was something...cold...unfamiliar and yet he knew this...force..this feeling...

"Stop!" Erik turned around to the boy, to Charles, and reached out with one hand as if to calm him down, which of course was stupid because Erik stood at the end of the stairs plus he was not really good in soothing others, especially not small children with demon eyes.

"Stop, enough! We are not here to hurt you Charles!" His voice was surprisingly calm and steady.

The boy hissed and his hollow eyes, which rather seemed to be filled with blue light than being real eyes, turned to Erik. The boy waved his raised hand and Emma's eyes rolled back. The White Queen slumped to the floor and mere minutes later her body began to disappear until Erik was alone. Erik had no clue what Charles had done to Emma. Erik felt panic raising.

He was alone, inside Charles' mind. He swallowed hard. "Charles..." Erik began again, carefully. "I know we shouldn't have-"

 _"This is_ _ **MY**_ _mind!"_ The boy shrieked, suddenly, his voice loud and high. Erik was sure he heard the window glass cracking dangerously _."This is_ _ **MY**_ _world, you are not meant to be here Erik Lehnsherr!"_ His voice alone made Erik shiver in discomfort.

The darkness and the shadows behind the boy seemed to slid around the thin form like something living. The thunder roared. _"You have no right to be here!"_

Erik's hands flew to his head as he winced in pain. Every word that was spoken felt like needle stuck through his brain. He had known that it was a bad idea to enter Charles' mind without his permission. Now he knew why.

"Charles-" Erik's voice cracked every so slightly as he tried to lift his head again to look at the pale face. "I am sorry, we had to..."

The lips of the child turned into a grim line. It wasn't something a child would do. And yes, it was a child in front of Erik but everything about this boy was so unchildlike, so hard and adult, that Erik felt as if it was a grown up man he was talking to.

_"You have no right to enter my mind, leave this place or you_ _**will** _ _die."_

He meant it.

He really meant it.

The words echoed in the room.

Oh, this was not like Charles at all...

What was going on?

How was he supposed to leave? Why should he leave? He was here to help Charles, and now that he had seen what was behind the door he had to help him, had to ask him, had to know!

"Charles..." Erik tried again, taking one step forward, and the boy narrowed his eyes. _"Stay_ _ **away**_ _from me!"_ The voices hissed and the shadows around the small body flickered dangerously, like snakes ready to attack Erik.

Erik had never imagined that Charles would look like this inside his mind, and he doubted that he had looked like this before the...happening.

_"No one is allowed to be here, no one, not even you, this is_ _**my** _ _place, this is_ _**my** _ _mind, it belongs to me, to me and only me, and you will leave_ _**now** _ _!"_

Erik felt as if a rock was thrown against his forehead and he stumbled backwards against the door, his breathing heavy as he tried to gather enough strenght together to speak. "I know it's difficult for you but this is not your mind, this not how it must have looked before."

Erik had always thought that Charles mind was a bright place, full of sunlight and warmth, something were you would like to stay forever, were you are welcome, something wonderful and utterly breathtaking, and Erik was sure that Charles' mind must have been such a place once before...before he had been broken.

Oh, it must hurt him, Charles, to see this place so broken and torn apart.

Maybe those memories in the bookshelves had been alive once, behind doors, different rooms where you could switch to, maybe his mind had been a whole own world of memories and dreams which had to be pressed into books to save them from falling apart...

Erik wished he had seen it, but he had never bothered to ask Charles how his mind looked like. Charles had always asked.

But now was not the time to regret anything..

"Charles!" Erik's voice was a plea. He hadn't heard Charles' voice for months, and even if the voice he heard was a merge of all of Charles voices, it was till him talking to Erik. It felt so good to hear him talking...

Charles didn't say anything.

Erik felt a pull, felt his mind being pulled away, back inside his body, and he struggled because he didn't want to go, he couldn't go now!

But it was too late.

With a gasp he opened his eyes, panting and clutching his head. He had a terrible headache.

Raven sat on the bed next to Charles, soothing him with sweet nothings while she stroke his hair. Charles' eyes were open, and they looked at Erik. There was nothing to be seen in them, no anger, no hate, no reproach, no sadness...just...nothing...as if he was far far away again, lost in his mind probably. Raven mumbled, her voice low as she rocked back and forth while holding Charles in her arms. He must have been screaming. She didn't wear the helmet anymore.

The room itself was a mess; papers laying on the floor, the window wide open, the carpet ruffled, the wardrobe open, clothes lying on the ground...

Emma was lying on the floor next to Erik. She was pale and her eyes were closed. She was unconscious. Erik leaned back against the nightstand, his eyes on Charles then he lowered his head in his hands. Fantastic...This was even worse than he had thought.

...

It took several hours until Emma woke up. Hank had checked her but he told Erik that he couldn't find anything to be wrong. Erik hoped Hank was right, because somehow he felt responsible for this mess. Not that he cared about Emma, no, he didn't, she was just important for his work and plans, and for saving Charles.

Charles had calmed down at least. Raven had been terrible mad, her yellow eyes glowing with anger while she tried not to scream at Erik. She didn't, surprisingly she didn't. Maybe she finally understood that screaming at Erik wouldn't change anything, especially not Erik's plans.

She had been so worried.

The blue girl hadn't said what had happened while Erik and Emma had been inside Charles' mind but Erik was sure that it must have been a frightening sight.

Emma looked up at the ceiling while Erik sat on a chair next to the bed.

The White Queen was quiet, something that wasn't like her at all.

Erik cleared his throat and the blonde woman turned her head to look at the metal-bender. He didn't wore his helmet. Emma was still too exhausted to do any real damage.

"You've seen it." Emma said, finally, her voice low and serious. There was...sadness in her voice. Oh, but oh, why would Emma pity anyone?

Erik couldn't help it, somehow he had the feeling that Emma had seen far more than he had, as if she had seen through the layers of Charles' mind underneath the illusion of the child and the books. What had she seen? What had happend to her? Something must have happened...Charles had been inside her mind, Erik was sure, they had been talking...

"What have you seen?" Erik asked, trying to steady his voice. "What was going on? Why was Charles... a child? What about the voices behind the doors? What did you mean with a part of Shaw's soul being inside Charles' mind? What...what happened?" Oh,so many questions, too many. The enigma of Charles Xavier's mind...

"I can't explain it." Emma said. Her eyes had the same far away look like those of Charles', as if she was seing something that no one else could see, that no none telepath could ever see or understand...

"He is afraid, and alone. He feels like a child, at the same time wishing to be someone else he once was. He knows..." She stopped, closing her eyes. "And at the same time he knows he will never be the same." She opened her eyes again, this time looking at Erik, who held her gaze.

"They are inside his head, you have seen it. The souls...he was linked with them as they died, and he is afraid, of himself and of them, of what he did and of what they have done. They are always with him, you know, the curse of a telepath..." She turned around to look at the ceiling again. "He hates himself, you know? For being what he is now. "

Erik was quiet. What should he answer to that?

"You can't help him." Emma said before Erik could ask the question. "He doesn't want any help, he wants to manage it on his own. I think he has to manage it on his own, it's an important process..."

"But what about Shaw!" Erik leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "We have to get rid of him!"

Emma laughed her icy laughter. "Oh Lehnsherr, Lehnsherr dear, that won't be possible for any of us." She trailed off. "Besides, getting rid of Shaw's soul isn't the problem, isn't the real problem..."

Erik knew that he was pale by now. "But, what does that mean..."

Emma sighed. "Listen to me, Magneto; he has to do it on his own. It's far more complicated than you think and you won't understand it because you can't. Neither do I."

Erik pressed his lips together, frustration eating at his inside. Great...

"You have to be careful, all of you." Emma said suddenly. She didn't say why, she didn't say anything else about that topic, but she said one more thing. "Shaw has a mansion in the mountains, you should go there to recruit your mutant army. The humans will soon search for you and they'll soon will know where to search."

Erik leaned back, crossing his arms while he did so. "Why would you tell me something like that?" He asked, wary. Never trust Emma Frost if she offers you something for free, because Emma Frost never offers anything for free.

"We are the same kind, aren't we?" She shrugged. "I don't like you, but I don't want you to get killed. You are a great hope for the mutants of this world. We are mutants, and we have to help each other. " She smiled slightly but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "There are just two sides, the side of the humans and the side of the mutants. For sure I am not on the side of those who want to kill me."

Erik nodded slowly because he could understand her point of view. Oh, Emma was clever, she truly was. She always knew how to save her skin...

"So, you're staying with us?" Erik asked.

The blonde sighed as she sat up against the headboard. "No. I told you that I wouldn't."

Erik furrowed his brow. "But how shall I find this mansion?"

"Azazel." Was Emma's short reply.

"And the mutants? How are they going to find us? I really need a telepath at my side and I would offer you a role next to my side..." Not that he liked the idea of having Emma Frost around him but as said, he needed a telepath now that Charles was...damaged.

"Oh, dear, I won't be any help for you, not anymore." Emma smiled sadly, and she was sad, Erik could see it."Charles made sure of that."

Erik's eyebrows raised and he opened his mouth to asked what Charles had done, but Emma shook her head. "No, Lehnsherr, that's not of your concern."

And she was right, it wasn't.

But he would need a telepath, he would need someone to find and recruit the other mutants, he would need one... Well, it had to wait.

"He said he would kill me..." Erik said suddenly, out of the blue. He looked out of the window and not at Emma at all.

"He said the same to me." The blonde woman replied calmly.

"But he would never say something like that..." Erik began, and he felt weird for saying something like that to Emma Frost. He was sounding so desperate and pathetic...

"It's a protective mechanism, nothing more." Emma explained as she turned to look out of the window as well. It was almost night. "Any intruder is an enemy of his."

Erik took a deep breath as he watched the dark sky outside. "Do you think he would have killed us?" He asked, feeling even more stupid than he already did. He was too vulnerable, showing emotions made him vulnerable, and Emma could use that to manipulate him...

"Yes." The White Queen answered honestly, nodding slightly. "Yes, after all that happened he would, to keep himself safe..."

But he didn't. Charles had been about to kill Emma, but he hadn't tried to kill Erik, he had hurt him, he had pushed him out of his mind, but he hadn't killed him.

Erik really wondered, once again, what was going on inside Charles' head. The journey inside Charles' mind had barely been any help at all. Erik still couldn't understand him, couldn't understand his actions, his thoughts, his feelings..

What worried him the most was the darkness behind the door, the voices and shadows of the souls that Charles had killed, _Shaw_... it was Erik's fault that Shaw was inside Charles' head...

Oh dear, oh dear if he had known...

"Getting consumed by self-hatred once more?" Emma's cold voice interrupted his thoughts. Erik hissed as he leaned back, his eyes still searching for the stars in the nightsky.

"Not of your concern." The metal-bender answered cooly, all emotions gone.

The conversation was over now, at least for Erik, and so the metal-bender stood up and walked to the door. Emma had done what he had asked for, there was no need to stay with her if there was nothing else she could do for him.

"I'll send Azazel." Emma said before Erik left the room. He didn't say 'thank you'. Why should he? He hadn't ask for it, so there was no need to thank her.

Maybe he should have thanked her, though, for the mind-trip, but he didn't; he did not feel like turning around to face Emma again and so he walked down the corridor.

Raven was talking to Hank, he could hear them behind the closed door of her room. Her voice was low.

Erik stopped in front of the large window. His thoughts wandered. He felt sick.

If he had known what killing Shaw would do to Charles..

If he had known what to do inside Charles' mind...

If he had known how to help...

_If, if,if..._

It made him angry and he felt useless, and if there was anything that Erik Lehnsherr hated then it was feeling useless!

He would be the leader of an army of mutants, he would lead them to war, he would fight the humans...

How was he supposed to win a war if his mind was distracted with thoughts of Charles...

Erik's grip tightened around the wood of the windowsill as the bitter taste in his mouth became stronger.

_What have I done?_

It was too much, everything, the things he had seen, heard...it was too much. He needed to sit down for a while.

Erik really, really wished he could help Charles and it broke his heart that he knew he couldn't.

Funny, he always had thought he had no heart, not anymore... Maybe Charles had been his heart, who knew?

_So sentimental, full of emotions, blaming yourself all time for everything. See what love has done to you, Lehnsherr? You've been such a strong but broken man, and now you're just a broken weeping child.._

Erik straightened his shoulders as he pushed himself away from the window.

Time to stop this overflow of useless emotions.

He needed a clear head if he wanted to win a war, and surely emotions wouldn't help.

_Rage maybe, and hate..._

He almost smiled at the irony;

Charles had always tried to calm his mind, to give him serenity and peace, and now...Now they were back to the beginning, like a circle..

_A circle of hate.._

Erik snorted and turned around to face the door of his room, his back towards the window. The light from outside was grayish.

_"And one day we will look up and see the stars, and I will say 'See, Erik, it was worth it.'"_

But there were no stars to be seen behind the oncoming dark clouds.


	15. This is War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I am so so so sorry! I should have updated long time ago but I kinda had a writers block and then I found new fandoms to be obsessed with and ...Omg, really, I am sorry! I hope this chapter is okay, it might be not as 'good' as the others but that's because I had to find my way back into the story and stuff. Sorry again! Uh,and I want to thank Minastauriel who wrote a review to the last chapter on archive. You're the reason why this chapter is here.
> 
> I love you all and thanks for sticking with the story!

_O for a voice like thunder, and a tongue  
To drown the throat of war!_

_When the senses  
Are shaken, and the soul is driven to madness  
_

_Who can stand? When the souls of the oppressed  
Fight in the troubled air that rages, who can stand?  
_

_When the whirlwind of fury comes from the  
Throne of God, when the frowns of his countenance  
Drive the nations together, who can stand?  
_

_When Sin claps his broad wings over the battle,  
And sails rejoicing in the flood of Death;  
_

_When souls are torn to everlasting fire,  
And fiends of Hell rejoice upon the stain.  
_

_O who can stand? O who hath caused this?  
_

_O who can answer at the throne of God?  
_

_The Kings and Nobles of the Land have done it!  
_

_Hear it not, Heaven, thy Ministers have done it!  
(Loreena McKennit, Lullaby)_

 

**Chapter 14**

It was raining. Still. All day. As if the sky was crying. But why would the sky cry about anything? The sky was free, bound to nothing more than the earth, so there was no need to cry.

The telepath didn't mind the crying sky, no; he was staring out of the window, deep deep in thoughts while the fingers of his left hand traced the pages of the book in his lap.

Months had gone by, it was July now, lovely July, but nothing was lovely at all.

Charles wasn't sure, but he could feel it; something was wrong, something was going on, for months now, and it was wrong.

Raven looked so sad sometimes, but she was hiding it well. She was a good actress, she really was. Sometimes she was able to hide her emotions as well as she could hide her true form, if she wanted to, but Charles could see behind the facade; he always could because she was his sister and he knew her well. He didn't even need to read her mind.

Her astral form was telling him everything anyway, not that he needed to look at it to know how she felt, but he couldn't avoid it. The astral plane was his home now, mostly. Especially after the incident with Erik.

Sean was so quiet, very quiet. It was weird to see the lively boy so utterly quiet and withdrawn. It was just another hint that something was wrong, that something was bothering not only him but everyone else as well.

Everyone had a different way to cope with it but in the end they failed at bluffing Charles. He might had decided to stop touching their mind but you didn't need to be a telepath to see and feel that something was not right. It was as if something was in the air, a tension, something that made everyone uneasy and tense.

Alex was angry, every day, and he was worn out, Charles could see it in his eyes. Sometimes the blonde boy would go outside into the yard and scream at the birds. It was as if Alex had taken all of Seans energy to transform it in to anger and frustration.

What was wrong with them? Suddenly Charles didn't feel 'wrong' anymore, somehow now he felt as if he was the only sane person in the mansion...

Hank was busy, really busy, spending his time in the lab. Charles rarely saw him then and there but not as often as three month ago. Hank was kind of leaving Charles on his own now, even the writing seasons became less and less important to the blue furred mutant. Not that Charles wasn't important to Hank,no, it was the fact that something else was occupying his mind.

Things were changing.

Charles hadn't seen Erik for days, but that was nothing new. Erik was gone for weeks sometimes and when he returned he looked tired and stern. He was avoiding Charles, and everyone knew why.

He hadn't apologized, wasn't apologizing, and maybe it was because he was too stubborn, maybe because he saw nothing wrong in his actions, Charles wasn't sure.

Though, there was one thing he was sure about; they were drifting apart, slowly, and it seemed that neither of them could do anything to prevent it from happening.

Well,maybe they could.

But they didn't.

It was sad, oh it was, and sometimes Charles would sit alone in his room with Sharon on his lap, laughing quietly because everything was filled with so much irony.

It wasn't fair.

It really really wasn't.

He wished, desperatly, that he could somehow heal himself. That he could make it better. Erik had tried to help him but it had ended with Charles nearly frying his brain. It wasn't Charles fault, no no, he hadn't meant to hurt anyone, it had just happened.

He had felt so hurt...

Now, however, he wasn't angry anymore. Maybe he had never been angry. Where was the point in being angry if it would change nothing?

Anger was still something that Charles dispised and he would never use it against others.

Though, Charles should be angry, shouldn't he? He had the right to be angry, everyone else would be angry, so why wasn't he angry?

He wasn't angry because he was disappointed.

And he wasn't angry because there was no need to be angry.

Erik had tried to help him by using another telepath to enter Charles' mind, something that was not okay but it also showed that the metal-bender cared.

Charles wasn't angry. He was, mentally, too tired to be angry - or to care.

Erik wasn't here, not anymore. Sometimes he would drop by and visit them, talking in a hushed voice with Raven and the others, and it was those times when Charles felt like they were hiding something.

They were hiding something. They wouldn't be able to hide it forever.

Charles wondered where Erik went when he wasn't in the mansion. What was he doing while he was outside?

Something was so so wrong and today Charles would discover what all the fuss was about.

He wouldn't be happy.

But then again, when was the last time he had been happy?

It was somewhere around the afternoon when he heard it from outside.

It was a loud bang, louder than the havoc that Alex used to cause with his energy blasts. Charles was sure he could feel the floor moving underneath him.

Sharon hissed, her green eyes narrowing as her head raised to look at the window. Charles furrowed his brow as he slowly raised his head to look up from his book and out of the window.

The sky was gray and hung over with rain-filled clouds. The yard was empty and everything looked utterly dull. Even the evergreen leaves of the trees seemed to be gray in the dim light of the day. It was in the distance, not too far away, that Charles could see the gray smoke that spiraled towards the sky like the hand of death itself.

And there were flames, high bright flames, Charles could see them with his wide blue eyes as something like utter shock went through him.

This was not right.

This was not good.

This was very very wrong.

Sharon mewed but Charles could barely hear her. His chest filled with fear as his airway began to crush beneath his worry.

 _I have to see what is going on there..._ His gaze lowered to look at Sharon, who seemed to shook her head as if to say; _no Charles, no._

But he didn't listen.

Oh, why did he never listen...

It was easy to leave his body to jump into the astral plane, almost too easy.

He should be worried since it was usually a bit difficult to struggle with the different atmosphere and the bright colors but he wasn't worried; he was too used to it.

The bright colors of the astral plane greeted him with a soft hum and Charles felt safer now, safer than in his fragile and prone body of his. Oh, he had healed well, not as well as he had hoped but he was fine now, really, better than months ago, but till it was difficult to cope with his current situation.

At least he wished to be able to walk again. He didn't need his right hand, only for playing the piano, something that he rather missed, but he was fine with only his left hand, he really was.

Talking was still a problem because everytime he tried to form a word with his lips it seemed as if something was holding it back, as if he could bring it over his lips, as if something was crushing the words beneath its will, an invisible force that stopped him from talking to anyone. It was so difficult to speak if the silence had become a friend of yours.

It was as if he was spellbound...

But even that was okay. He had accepted it, he would live with it, he would deal with it later, maybe, maybe not. Now he had to take a closer look at the black smoke.

 _Will you follow me?_ He asked his loyal cat, but the cat just stared at him. No, not this time, this time he had to go on his own.

 _All right_ , he hummed and nodded slowly. _All right, this time you won't join me._

He couldn't rely on his cat, not always, not forever. She was just that, a cat, a clever cat maybe and a friend but she was no human being and she had her own will. She had helped him well, had lead him back to a healthier state, and she would watch his way, but she would not take the lead again. He had to start to stand on his own two feet again - literally.

It was easy to move in the astral plane. He could jump through walls, he could run faster than anyone else, he could fly or change his astral form. He was a god, someone with authority, someone who had power. Charles wasn't power hungry and he didn't need others underneath his feet but he needed this, his freedom.

He didn't want to be chained to the wheelchair. He felt like a bird in a golden cage, pitied by everyone while they tried to keep him save from whatever harm there was outside the cage. Half of him was thankful, because they cared, the other half was tired to be chained to the home that he never really loved.

It was so confusing, everything.

 _It has been easy, once_ , Charles thought as he ran across the bright green grass. It flew away under his feet like the water of a river. _Once I knew exactly what I want, who I want to be, what I have to do...And now I don't even know where to start..._

The pieces where still left, shattered on the floor, because Charles hadn't dared to pick them up. He was afraid to hurt himself at the sharp edges..

The smoke was over him now, and the bright sunny sky of the astral plane was filled with nasty gray clouds of thick smoke.

His heart hammered in his chest as his lungs began to fill with sticky smoke.

The smoke was like toxic, flying through the air in dark clouds while it colored the sky in a nasty dirty purple which slowly swallowed the bright blue of the sky.

Even the golden rays of the sun were not strong enough to break the dark spell of the toxic in the air. Charles kept running, his feet carrying him through the dark wood. It was so dark in the wood, so very dark, that Charles could barely see where he was running. His feet often stumbled over roots and the trees seemed to grab for him like the claws of an angry animal. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks, maybe it was the astral plane that was infested by whatever was causing the fire.

It seemed to take an eternity until he finally reached the end of the woods and the beginning of the fire.

He really wished he hadn't reached it.

He really wished he had stayed inside the mansion.

He really wished he didn't need to see this.

In front of his eyes was war.

There were bodies on the ground, broken bodies, bloody bodies, and there was the fire, bright and warm, the tongues of flame reaching high into the ink black sky.

They screamed.

It was loud, too noisy, and there was so much blood. Blood that was too bright in the astral plane, blood that seemed to glow like the fire while it seeped out of the broken glass bodies of the astral plane and into the cold hard floor; the elixir of life soaking the floor while everything around the bodies seemed to die, seemed to fade into black and white while the blood was unnaturally bright against the colorless surroundings.

And the souls, they flew into the sky, high high into the ever black sky, and mixed with the smoke until nothing was left of the pure colors, until everything was black smoke in the sky.

What was going on?

What was happening?

This couldn't be real.

But it was.

There, in the middle of the fight stood Erik Lehnsherr, watching the fight with his cold eyes as he turned the metal weapons of the humans against said humans.

But Charles Xavier could not see Erik Lehnsherr because all Charles Xavier could see with his astral eyes was the black spot in the astral plane; the cold black spot which held no memories and no emotion, the cold black spot that seemed to suck all energy out of him.

And around this black spot were the mutants with their bright souls and astral bodies made of energy that looked like glass, every single one of them beautiful while they attacked the humans with their different powers.

They shattered, those bodies, they shattered into million pieces as they died, and the smoke inside them flew away until there was nothing left of them, until there only broken bodies of glass were left.

And Charles Xavier stood there, he stood there with wide eyes while he tried to breath, he stood there while his body was shaking with fear and shock, he stood there in the astral plane and watched as humans and mutants slaughtered each other.

Why.

Why?

Why did they do this?

What was the reason, where was the point?

It made no sense...It made no sense!

Panic clawed at his soul and threatened to rip his heart into pieces.

NO, this was impossible...This shouldn't be...This was not what he had wanted...This was not what anyone should want!

And they fell around him, humans and mutants alike, they fell and their bodies shattered and the air was hot and full of smoke and flames.

A man stumbled and fell in front of Charles. He lay on the ground, slowly rolling himself on the back to look up at the sky. His stomach was a red mess of viscera, his clothes torn, and where once his left arm had been was now a bloody stump where you could see the bone of the upper arm.

He had to be near death as his eyes met Charles, who still couldn't believe what he saw.

"Are you...an angel?" The man asked, his voice strained and weak and full of pain and there were tears on his eyes, cristal clear tears that ran down his dirty face and left a trail of white on the dirty skin.

Charles couldn't answer. He had no words. Even if he had the ability to speak, even if it wasn't already hard for him to communicate, he couldn't answer.

He crouched down next to the man, his body shivering with shock as he laid a shaking hand on the belly of the man. The blood was thick and sticky on his hands and seemed to stick there,marking his skin with the touch of death.

Maybe he could heal the man...Maybe he could mend the broken body beneath him like he could bend his own astral body.

But,where would be the point? Would the man be happy to have a broken and dying body while his mind and soul was fixed? Charles wished he could help, he really really wished he could help the man, but he couldn't.

He tried to smile, tried to give the lost soul as much hope as he could manage to face, but it was already to late; the man was dead, and his eyes unseeing as the white smoke left the glass-like astral body to disappear into the dark sky.

STOP THIS MADNESS! Was all Charles wanted to scream, but no words left his dry lips. He didn't cry. The shock was to great and all tears were spent already.

It did hurt, to see them fall apart, to see the souls vanish into the nightsky, to see the fire that ate everything.

For a telepath the death of people around him was horrible and it was even more horrible to see it in the astral plane because you could see every soul fade away, you could see the souls shatter and break, you could see how the life left the body..

You could _feel_ it...

You could feel the souls leaving the bodies, you could feel the life drifting away, vanishing like a spark of fire in the air..

It was horrible, really horrible, and no one should suffer the burden to be able to see the death of others with the eyes of a telepath.

But for Charles it was too late.

He had not only seen the death of people, he had caused death as well and there was nothing in this world that could change the fact that he had seen more than anyone should have seen.

Charles felt sick and he stood up to turn around, to run into the woods far far away from the horror in front of his eyes. He ran and ran and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The wind pulled at his hair, pulled at his clothes and at his very being, but he kept running, running away from the horror of the war.

This was madness.

This was wrong.

This was never meant to be.

Where was the peace?

What had caused the war?

Charles' heart ached, it ached so badly that all he wanted to do was to tear it out so he could feel no more.

What had happened to the life he had known?

What had happened to all the people?

Oh,oh know he could understand why they had changed! Those poor children... His poor Raven...How long had she known?

They shouldn't suffer the burden of a war. They shouldn't see the dead bodies, they shouldn't fight this fight.

_Oh Erik, where are you when I need you?_

Once again Charles wished he was stronger, but he wasn't.

And once again Charles wished for Erik to be at his side, but he wasn't.

They had left him weak and in pieces and now he was not able to protect those that he loved. How could he, when he couldn't even defend himself?

Would it have come this far if he had been stronger?

A voice hissed inside his head, telling him that it hadn't been his fault. Maybe it hadn't, but he felt responsible. Oh yes, he always felt responsible, his great weakness..

_Oh Erik, where are you?_

There was a bitter tasted in his mouth as he finally jumped back into his body. His heart was racing and his head did hurt and every fibre of his being was filled with panic and utter horror.

He was crying now, badly and quietly, while he stared at his hands. He was sure they were red with blood, but they weren't. They were as pale as they used to be, no sign of the blood that was on his astral form hands.

He had to do something.

No matter what, he had to do something.

This was not the world he wanted to live in, broken or not, he did not want a world where war between humans and mutants was daily basis.

And after a long time, after all those months that he had spent left alone inside his head, broken and hurt, after all these months he started to feel something else than self-pity and tiredness; he felt the need to do something.

And yes, he wanted to break down and cry even more because everything was just unfair but he had spent enough nights with crying. He was already broken, he couldn't break any further. There was nothing to loose as long as he tried to save what could still be saved.

Charles straightened his back as he wiped away the tears on his face, his mouth a grim line and his expression stern.

It was as if he had woken from a dazed dream...As if he saw everything in a new light, not in a better light no, but in the light of reality.

This time it wasn't about himself, this time it was about the whole world.

And, as everyone knew, if Charles Xavier cared for anything than it was for the wellbeing of others, not the wellbeing of himself.

This point, this tiny point, gave him something to focus on; not his own misery, but the misery of the world. His view was directed from himself and his broken soul to the world that he could still safe, something that he could fix...If it wasn't already too late...

But how?

How, now that he was so broken and maybe beyond repair? How,when he was not able to speak a single word?

This wouldn't be easy, but then again, when had it ever been easy...

Charles grabbed the wheels of his wheelchair as and began to wheel himself towards the door.

He had to see Raven and the others because he had some questions that needed to be answere


End file.
